#the queue will pretty much be empty but i do have an ask game scheduled to rb tomorrow morning so. might answer those.

[autumnalwalker]

Writeblr Intro v3

Updating the pinned intro now that it's been a year and my (now previously) main WIP is complete as it's going to be.

Me:

I write as a hobby. It's something I do for fun and first and foremost for myself. But if other people happen to actually like what I write, that's pretty cool too.

I try to keep this main blog primarily writing-focused. I've set up the side-blog @traversedmiscellany for reblogging/posting any other random stuff that happens to catch my interest.

I tend to prefer to keep my online and offline lives separate so I rarely say much about personal details aside from what inevitably winds up leaking into talking about my writing.

I am open to tag games and ask games. Or just general writing-related asks.

If anyone would like to be added to a tag list (whether for WIP updates or tag games), please feel free to send me a message or reply to this post, specifying what you want to be on the tag list for.

My WIPs:

Completed (Is it still a "WIP" at this point? Either way, it's fully online and available to read for free.):

The Archivist's Journal:

A slice-of-life story about waking up on a fantasy tropical island told over the course of a year in the form of daily journal updates. Mostly fairly chill, just living life one day at a time, but with some occasional angst, social anxiety, and supernatural spookiness.

The whole story (just over 330,000 words) is posted on my side blog @thearchivistsjournal. Or if you want to read from the beginning, here's the chronological posting. Or if you prefer to read in a format other than Tumblr posts, it's mirrored over on my ScribbleHub.

Also, here's the post I made when the project was completed for some more meta background on it and what I mean when I call it "complete."

I may eventually make additional scattered journal entries as a sort of periodic epilogue, but Day 380 should be considered the end of the "main story," so to speak.

Ongoing:

Empty Names:

My current main project. Also freely available to read in full as chapters go up.

A bit of an episodic urban fantasy moster-of-the-week sort of deal that's mostly an excuse to have a cast of OCs that I like interact with eachother. The basic premise is a world-hopping adventurer attempts to set up a sword-and-sorcery style adventurer's guild in a modern world where "adventurer" isn't considered a legitimate profession. Has what I suppose one might call "genre-typical violence" with fighting monsters and such, and individual chapters are tagged with more specific content warnings where necessary.

Here's the masterpost for it with links to chapters and to several standalone side stories set in the same world/setting.

I'm much more casual with my update schedule on this project, but it seems to be coming out to posting weekly chapter updates for a month or two at a time and then taking a month or two off from posting while I rebuild my buffer queue for the next batch of chapters.

Also, while it's not exactly a focus, the five characters of the core cast are all some flavor or another of LGBTA+, if that's a selling point for you.

The Witches' Testaments:

A prequel to the currently-hiatused "Solarpunk Witch Story" below that I wrote the loose framework and beginnings of in a sudden fit of inspiration that I may return to sporadically.

The idea was to focus a bit more on the "punk" side of Solarpunk and paint a picture of the effort and rebellion that went into how that world transitioned from Cyberpunk dystopia to Solarpunk... well, not utopia exactly, but something better than it was and striving toward that dream.

And because that sort of thing is bigger than any one person and I had multiple worldbuilding concepts I wanted to touch on, I landed on the idea of writing it in the form of a series of interviews with various characters who lived through that period of change.

Here's the masterpost for it.

Indefinite Hiatus:

Untitled Solarpunk Witch Story:

A project that I absolutely intend to return to one day once Empty Names is finished, but that's going to be a good long while yet.

The story of a freshly-minted "witch" and her AI familiar traveling from town to town in an ecologically-recovering post-capitalism future, providing highly-specialized tech support and environmental consulting wrapped up in enough mysticism and aesthetics to blur the line between what's purely technology and what might possibly be some kind of magic. I only ever wrote a prologue and five chapters worth of an initial arc/town/problem to solve, but I liked what I wrote well enough to share all that online. Ultimately this project going on hold was a matter of it being one project too many for me to handle simultaneously on the time combined with a desire to get more experience at traditional prose writing (as opposed to the epistolary format of The Archivist's Journal) so that I could better do the concept justice when I do one day revisit it.

In the meantime, those initial rough chapter drafts are all up online here: Solarpunk Witch Masterpost

Miscellaneous other writing:

On most Thursdays I'll post small (couple hundred words at most) pieces based on various interesting dreams that I've had. Being based on dreams, the content is a mixed bag. Those are tagged under #my dreams. These now have a compilation Masterpost that I'll do my best to keep updated.

Alternatively, if you just want to browse semi-random excerpts and snippets from the above works, I post a lot of that under #tag game.

Some Standalone Short Stories:

(Stories that were either written to be standalone pieces, or appear within something else but worked well enough by themselves that I gave them their own separate posts.)

The Tale of the Merchant and the Blacksmith's Daughter: A sapphic fairy tale (and, in retrospect after writing, possible trans allegory).

The Melts: An attempt to shift what would normally be body horror into the genre of slice-of-life. "What if your body slowly melting over the course of the day were treated as no more serious than the common cold and you still had to go to work?"

Kindly Basilisk: A human mech pilot who wants to be a machine, an AI who wants to be human, and the relationship they form.

#writeblr intro #writers #writers of tumblr #writeblr #creative writing #writeblr community #masterpost #my writing

[paisley-print]

3:00pm : We’ll Have Plenty Of Time To Dance

About: A date night goes horribly wrong.

Warnings: Marriage problems, fire.

Rating: 18+

Characters: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Series Master List

Note: Sorry this took so long, the next chapter is in the queue for tommrow. 

Midnight Tag List: @just-here-for-the-moment @sherala007 @jediknight122 @pintsizemama Permanent Tag List: @voteforpedro09 @greeneyedblondie44 @feel-it-on-the-way-home13​​

-

-

“Sorry, hold on-” you pressed the phone closer to your ear then walked through the kitchen and out the backdoor to the parking lot. “Hello?”

“Where are you?”

It was Jack. You propped the door open with your foot. “What do you mean? I’m at work?”

“Oh, I wasn’t sure if you were home yet.”

“Yeah, I got in at around ten,” you said.

“The drive was good?” he asked.

Sneakers kicked up gravel as you spoke. “I mean, as good as it can be. I hit commuter traffic, but that’s pretty much it.”

“Did you have fun?”

You had been away at your cousin’s wedding for a few days and neither one of you seemed to be able to get a hold of the other. Poor reception and mixed schedules meant a game of phone tag. You had spent a majority of the night drinking and immediately regretted that decision as soon as you laid sprawled out across the hotel sheets.

The room was in a tailspin and you felt so sick... all you wanted to do was hear your husband's voice. So many people asked about him, and you just had to smile and make some excuse about why he wasn’t able to come. It sucked, pretending like everything was perfect when you knew damn well it was not. Bitter loneliness in a room full of a hundred people.

Numbers blurred into each other as you fumbled with your phone. You called him twice, but received an error message both times.

Jack had already left for work by the time you got home this morning. His belongings were strewn about, muddy boots kicked off by the door, hat on the kitchen table, two empty beer bottles by the sink. You called out for him on the off chance he would be there, but you knew he wasn’t. That stuff was left from the night before.

You decided to lie in response to his question, because there wasn’t much else you could do. “Yeah it was okay... just like every other wedding.”

“I’m sure the cake was terrible.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because you didn’t make it. Any cake made by someone else is automatically going to be terrible.”

You cracked a smile, “It certainly wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever had.”

Someone was in the room with him, but you couldn’t place who. He must have moved away from the receiver because you could barely make out the tail end of “yeah I’ll be right there” before his voice returned. “Good to hear darlin’. Well, I gotta go, but be ready by six alright?”

The time on your phone read 3:00pm. “Yeah, sure. May I ask why?”

“I thought we could go to that bar, you know the one on main street.”

Butterflies fluttered around your stomach... he was asking you on a date? You couldn’t recall the last time the two of you went out and did something fun. Being married to Jack felt as if you were floating on a raft in the middle of the ocean, dictated solely by the tide and left wondering if the sea would remain flat or give way to terrifying swells.

“Darlin’?” Jack’s voice asked.

You realize you hand't responded yet “oh yeah, yes. Okay so I’ll see you at one.”

“Six” he corrected.

You giggled stupidly, “yes six, I’ll see you at six.”

“Alright sugar, well I gotta get back to work so I’ll talk to you later. Have a nice day.”

“Alright, I love you,” you responded, trying not to sound overly excited.

“I love you too,” he added, “bye hon.”

Then the line went dead.

-

You had gotten home at five and headed upstairs to shower. Since the phone call, you had been unable to get him out of your mind. You had spent the rest of the day grinning like an idiot, excited for what was to come. A little after six you heard a car horn sound from the driveway and smiled.

-

“Now is that any way to greet a lady?” you asked, bounding down the front steps towards his car.

Jack was leaning across the hood of his truck, arms folded, smirking as you approached. He whistled upon seeing you, “well don’t you look pretty, even got the cowboy boots on.”

“Yeah, we’re matchin’ ” you smiled brightly.

As soon as you were close to him you reached up, taking his tie in your hands and pulling him towards you. Your mouth met his in a feverish kiss. He stiffened a little before relaxing and kissing you back. He tasted sweet, like peppermint.

“What was that for?” he asked as you pulled away.

“I don’t know. I just missed you.”

His lips pulled into a smile beneath his mustache, “then let’s head out.”

You leaned up to give him one more peck on the cheek before skipping over to the passenger’s side of the car and hopping in.

-

It was late by the time you two left the bar. Most of the conversation revolved around your family and the wedding. Although you asked him about work a few times, he only seemed to give you vague answers. Usually he couldn’t tell you about specific projects until after they had been completed. It had been that way for years.

Throughout the night you clung to him more than usual. Normally you weren’t one for PDA, but tonight you were his little koala bear. You would have stopped if he seemed annoyed, but he didn’t. He would simply smile and allow you to hang about.

The night was cool, and each step echoed across the brick buildings. Jack’s hand was intertwined with yours as you walked beside him towards the car.

He paused and read the street sign on the corner, “I just have one more thing for us to do tonight.”

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, but ignored it and let him pull you along.

As soon as the two of you rounded the corner, your heart skipped a beat. The streetlamp, the intersection, the music shop. A memory surfaced in your mind:

‘We’ll have plenty of time to dance, Jack.’

You were shocked that he remembered. Neither one of you had spoken about that night since it happened, but something was dangerously out of place.

He pulled you into the street and as you approached the intersection, you heard Thomas Rhett’s ‘Slow Down Summer’ drifting out of the speakers.

Jack stopped and turned to you, letting go of your hand and taking hold of your waist. “You remember this?”

“Of course I do,” you said quietly, hooking your arms around his neck. “It seems like such a long time ago.”

“Almost three years,” he murmured against your hair.

“Almost three years,” you repeated, taking a deep breath and resting your head on his shoulder. It felt so much longer.

Your phone vibrated again.

The two of you seemed so young and hopeful back then. You didn’t regret a single moment from the last few years, but you found yourself wondering sometimes about what would have happened if you both stayed friends. Would you be happier?

“Jack, I’m sorry that I’ve been so on edge recently. I just, I’ve missed you. But it’s not fair to get on your case about work, I know you can’t control it. And I know I never really thanked you for everything you did for me at the start of the year. I never stopped to think how hard it must have been for you, too. I really appreciate it. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I hope you know that.”

You heard him sigh “let’s not worry about that now darlin’.”

“We should take a vacation after you’re done with this project. It’ll give us both something to look forward to.”

He hesitated.

Curiously, you lifted your head to look at him and that’s when your heart sank. Guilt plastered clear across his face. It all made sense at that moment. This was the only promise he had yet to keep. It wasn’t an attempt to get things back to normal. This was a swan song.

Your marriage was in its final throes, but you weren’t ready to watch it die. Not tonight, not here.

You recoiled from him “Jack please I-”

Your phone buzzed yet again.

He cleared his throat and looked at the ground, stetson blocking his expression. “Answer that honey. Must be important.”

“Jack-”

Again, it rang.

Annoyed, you reached for the phone in your pocket. Twenty-two missed texts, three missed calls. “Fuck,” you mumbled…….“Hello?”

-

Boots touched the asphalt, and tires screeched to a stop as you jumped out of the car. You started towards the building as fast as your legs could carry you. It felt as though someone had poured acid in your lungs, but you kept up anyway. Throngs of people were packed densely behind a police barricade, and from this angle there was no indication that the angry fireball spitting inky black smoke had once been your beautiful bakery.

Flames licked up the sides and tendrils of fiery blue shot out from broken windows. You pushed past the police barricade and continued forward towards the fire. It felt like everything was in slow motion….

There were voices yelling, but they sounded a million miles away. The heat was intense even from this far back. Burning, everything burning. Embers, floated down and created a blanket of black soot across the sidewalk. Burning, choking your insides.

You stopped, doubling over and wheezing. Someone grabbed you by the wrist and jerked you backwards. You spun and saw Jack’s concerned face staring back at you. Those brown eyes had never been so wide.

He was saying something, shouting it over the roaring blaze….. but you couldn’t comprehend. His hands came to your waist, then he walked you forward, back beyond the barricade.

The crowd parted, and as you made your way past, you looked up at the faces of your neighbors. Every single one filled with sympathy and sorrow.

Jack was practically carrying you by the time you turned the corner onto a quiet side street. The breeze off the river sent chilly air funneling through the buildings. He sat you down against the brick, kneeling and speaking to you. Your eyes followed the smoke again, but he placed a gentle finger under your chin and directed your gaze back to him.

Slowly, the words started to make sense. He had been saying your name, over and over again - trying to get you to come back to him. You to double over once more as another coughing fit seized you.

“I know, I know. Come here-” he took you up in his arms and squeezed you tightly.

Your entire body trembled beneath him. Your beautiful shop, disintegrating into a pile of black rubble before your very eyes. It had been the product of years spent sacrificing and saving. It was all you had. The reason for coming to this town in the first place... and it was gone. Everything that had ever mattered to you in life was slowly crumbling one by one, a line of dominoes all destined to fall.

You whimpered into the fabric of his jacket. There was a loud creaking then yelling from the police officers as the buildings started to fall in on itself. Jack brought a hand up to your ear and shushed you gently.

You always counted on the bakery. Even in your saddest moments, it had been your one sanctuary. So many nights you spent kneading your feelings into the dough and making something beautiful from your pain.

Even as Jack was holding you now, it felt as though you had absolutely nothing left. You were terrified at what changes the daylight would bring, and what truths it would force you to acknowledge. Just for a few more hours you could pretend. Live in a state of denial until the sun came up.

#Pedro Pascal Fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Pedro fanfic #Kingsmen Fanfic #Kingsmen Fanfiction #Agent whiskey fanfic #Agent whiskey x you #Agent whiskey x Reader #Whiskey x you #Jack Daniels x you

[mintchocohip]

sub!bts as househusbands

╺ requested | the ot7 as househusbands!

╺ note | sub!bts x domme!reader. see each member for any notes!

TAEHYUNG ➜

note | roleplay

Visiting friends, putting on his errand boy hat, or wandering town with a camera, an empty stomach, and a pocketful of cash occupy chunks of Taehyung’s weekdays. He isn’t allowed to open his sub journal until three hours past noon—that’s the hour when he misses you the most. At the sanctioned time Taehyung opens the journal to today’s date and picks out a handwritten note delicately tucked into the pages. Today, he’s Maestra’s best student—recording himself practicing the new song you chose on his violin. “'I’ll do anything for Maestra. I would be her Cinderella,’” you’re finally home, and you’re sitting next to Taehyung on the couch reading aloud the journal entry he scribbled after sending you the recording, “'cleaning on hands and knees.’” Taehyung’s sheepishness at hearing you voice his fantasies is cured by a fluff of his hair and a fond kiss on his rosy ear. As you wash dishes with Taehyung later this evening you’ll contemplate tomorrow. Choosing these secret tasks is your prerogative. Still. Your husband always has amazing ideas. 

YOONGI ➜

notes | naked apron kink, mentions of pegging

Yoongi is the ideal house husband. He’s vigilant, hardworking, and resourceful. A need for time and space alone is never questioned. When your sleepy-eyed husband emerges from the solitude of his home studio, though, Yoongi needs tangible proof he’s making you happy. “An apron?” Yoongi glances down at the white sheath. He wandered into the kitchen to find you home from work with a shopping bag on your elbow. You’re holding the apron’s straps against his shoulders to judge the fit. “Cooking naked. Flying oil. Makes me nervous... I thought my little chef could use an apron.” Yoongi blinks. He knows he’s blushing. Usually, he doesn’t pull on clothes before waking up early to cook you breakfast and pack your lunch for work. Cooking for you is basic, respectful routine. It would be easier to toss on a baggy shirt than tie an apron. This gift mostly appears to benefit the person who strolls into the kitchen most mornings acting like you’re already hopped up on two espressos and daydreaming about giving him the strap tonight while you wake yourself up knowing full well the effect your naughty backhugs and whispered “good morning, baby”s have on his attempts to focus on stirring veggies in the frying pan, of course; but, Yoongi has a feeling he might enjoy it more than you do.

JUNGKOOK ➜

notes | mdlb, little!jk

Jungkook waited for the right moment expectantly. He sensed it in your aura. He felt it in the way you looked at him, listened to him, and held him in the weeks before. Something changed. It was a comfortable, gentle change. Jungkook cried when he proposed. He cried at the wedding. He cried when you said it would be better to stop renting dungeon space and instead find an apartment with a suitable extra room. Marriage was about romance, symbolism, and becoming yours. Jungkook knew his lifestyle of playing games and going to the gym all day wouldn’t change. You’re two self-sufficient people who fix up chores as they appear. Most days, Jungkook feels that vocally supporting your ambitions and treating the apartment like a laundrette are the most important things he can do. When you text him to say you’re coming home early and wondering if he could take out all of his littlespace things and set up the playroom before you’re through the door—shocks run up Jungkook’s spine. He gloats like your friend when he steals your snacks, and he thinks like a roommate when he asks if he can dedicate more closet space to his growing shoe collection. Right now, you need your partner. That special knowledge relaxes Jungkook with peaceful—dry-eyed—certainty.  

HOSEOK ➜

note | mommy kink

You didn’t know housework channels existed until Hoseok started one. The ‘mommy’ in his social media handle is cutesy but sincere. In the past Hoseok has always felt tingly and whole when you gave him a sarcastic “sorry, mom” after he scolded you for putting drain cleaner in the wrong cupboard or failing to tap down a coaster for a glass of water. Now, it’s what a legion of fans call the faceless, apron-clad man posting soothing clips of himself cleaning through every room of this gorgeous sunny apartment and, occasionally, grooming the puppies. You’ve never really looked at any of it. Hoseok appreciates that you have him so wholly you don’t need to. “Soft,” you mutter while laying in bed with him at night. You’re playing with his hair to make him smile. Hoseok knows a certain bedside drawer is off-limits from his urge to tidy and rearrange. When you roll over to open it he curls up inside. At some point this house gained two mommies. Only one Mommy is dignified with a capital M in texts through fluxes of dirty talk and reminders to buy new air filters. Only one of them decides when and how Hoseok gets off. Your husband enjoys organizing his days. For your sake, he’s even happier to surrender his nights. 

JIMIN ➜

note | lifestyle d/s

Watered plants, vacuumed cat hair, spotless surfaces, empty recycling, lines in praise of Mistress. Jimin sends you photos of today’s completed chores at the scheduled times and gets cute emojis in return. If he lived alone Jimin might spend all day playing with the foster cats and downing wine at brunch. As it is, he carefully considers a new color scheme for the bathroom. He needs this space to be pretty for you. Shopping with a wide open budget usually distracts Jimin into sending you pictures of a giant teddy bear and asking if you would be angry to find it in the living room when you come home. Although he flutters from amusement to amusement, Jimin is always home, relaxed, and wearing the clothes you like when he needs to be. Hanging up your backpack and taking off your shoes, following you into the bedroom, and kneeling at the edge of the bed to massage your legs and eat your cunt is ritualistic. Jimin makes amazing coffee. You lounge in bed, sip the mug he brings, and tell him what to order for dinner. Discipline earns its rewards. The reason you bicker with smiles on your faces about Jimin’s definition of “spotless surfaces” is absolute comfort. You know what you want from each other, and you want the same things.  

NAMJOON ➜

Lounging in the garden is a fine way to spend a weekend afternoon. Cool shade inside the wisteria tunnel is dappling Namjoon with light and shadow. You lean over the picnic tatami and clink lemonade cans with the man who created this masterpiece. He smiles shyly when he realizes you’re staring. You’re giving him that look. Once upon a time, discovering that you don’t care too much about your surroundings excited Namjoon. It’s a form of power he never thought he would have in a marriage. Perusing local furniture galleries and commissioning artists to furnish a home that suits his aesthetic sparked Namjoon’s creativity. Tempering compost, monitoring seedlings in the garden, and flecking walkways with wildflowers and willows brims him with encompassing adoration for life. Beauty is created in the wake of his passionate work. “Unbutton your shirt halfway.” You're taking a sip of lemonade, leaning back, and watching Namjoon follow your instruction. Buttons open somewhat shakily. He rests his hands and waits to hear your next idle thought on what he should do for you. The outlines of these moments cross your mind slowly and meander to your imagination. You don’t have the patience for gardening. You do have the patience to capture some of Namjoon’s beauty for yourself.  

SEOKJIN ➜

note | blindfolds

Your coworkers have met him at parties. Seokjin is a friendly, handsome man with savoir faire. A creative list of salacious reasons a man like that would drop his career forms behind your back. Seokjin scoffs when you relay gossip to him. He’s especially fond of the idea he’s a criminal witness skirting discovery. Trying the hobbies he never had time for, taking his little cousins to the aquarium, fishing weekends, signing up for classes at the local university, streaming liveplays out of his gaming room or cooking tutorials out of the fancy kitchen you funded—Seokjin savors it all with fresh-faced enthusiasm. Some days he just takes out the trash, folds laundry, edges himself, gets bored, catnaps, and checks his phone to see if you can call because he’s lonely today and nothing he could do compares to hearing his wife tell him what’s on her mind. There is an unwieldy desire inside Seokjin, despite it all. He needs to demonstrate the ways he cherishes, protects, and provides for you. Sometimes, it’s being the person you need to tell about your day. It’s being the person who cooks your comfort foods, provides warm hugs, queues your shows, and takes you on dates. Most often, it’s your kiss on his forehead as you adjust the blindfold and praise him sweetly. “You’re the reason,” you remind him with another kiss, “that I’m always smiling when I think about home.”

#sub!bts #domme!reader #member x reader #ot7 post #sub!taehyung #sub!yoongi #sub!jungkook #sub!hoseok #sub!jimin #sub!namjoon #sub!seokjin #mch #scenario #not feeling this post #but it's been in the drafts for almost a year

[spacehologramcollection]

Kombat Kast in lockdown:

Real talk, I could have continued writing this. But I’m easing myself back into writing. Some nice fluff with a dash of NSFW. I’m planning on doing a part two, because this is very long. 

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, get your dentist on speed dial. Little bit of NSFW. Lockdown. 

18+ under the cut guys. 

I don’t own the GIFS. 

·         Kabal:

He’s ready for this. He’s prepared. He cannot wait to spend some quality time with you. Both pre and post burn would be so happy and stoked to spend time with you. Both pre and post burn Kabal, are going to be in their comfiest joggers, hair tied back and glasses on. Takes advantage of the time to catch up on some TV with you, play some videogames and also losing track of what day and time it is. Is 2am too early to make pancakes? No. Because you’re running on lockdown time. Awake at 3am trying to make Macrons because the video made it look so easy. Dancing around your shared apartment like idiots. Though, post burn Kabal would prefer just to hold you close and sway to the music. Lockdown pre-burn would be a dream come true for him. Lounging on the sofa, you’re laid flat against his chest, a hand in your hair. Bliss. Post-burn could be bad for his Mental Health. More time for him to think about his body and what he used to have. So, he may need a bit of TLC and a whole lot of body worship. He just needs to be reminded that he’s still the most handsome man on the planet. Also, reading comics at 3 in the morning. You’re sat crossed leg on the floor, surrounded by pillows, he’s super into comics and nerdy things. He’ll be sat eagerly watching you read his favourite issue, watching your reaction, he knows them off by heart so he’s waiting for you to react to his favourite scene. Debates to no end on who could kick who’s ass. Late nights, lazy mornings and afternoons. Post-Burn Kabal will refuse to put a shirt on. Just lounging around in his joggers. He will need a hand shaving his hair. He always needs a hand with the back. He will let it get a little longer during lockdown. Maybe, if you beg hard enough, he may let you spike it. Best lockdown buddy. Also, Ninja mime marathon, with a drinking game thrown in. Working from home is hard. Especially with his fine arse on your couch. Smiling as you’re on a zoom call. Screaming ‘TELL THEM I SAID HI’ Post-burn Kabal won’t want to appear on them as much. Often miming the action for a drink, bringing you lunch and also looking over your shoulder. Before kissing you softly on the cheek.

         Cassie Cage:

She’s pretty sure her mum is going to flip her shit. But she doesn’t care. She doesn’t want to work-out or train to her absolute limits. You’re here with her and she wants to chill out with you and hang out with you. Like a normal fucking couple. So, she’s breaking a few rules for you. Don’t tell no one about that though. Your both in lockdown in her apartment. You’re both debating if the hallway should be neon orange or neon pink. You’re bored so you end up redecorating the place. Stained. Hair. A playful splat on the nose turns into a mini paint fight. You both also make handprints on the wall together. Because that’s one way to remember it… that and she saw it in Up and though it was cute. Getting wasted happens a few times too. She admits she wants you to be like the couple from UP, but she doesn’t want it to be as sad. She’s also on the floor sobbing because the brownies aren’t done yet. A lockdown with Cassie is fun every day. She ordered a bath bomb for you both to take a relaxing bath together. She also ordered you a few beers to enjoy whilst in there too. She gets pissed with how long her hair is getting. So, it’s time for the undercut to make a comeback. Queue Cassie bringing out the clippers and asking you to help her cut her hair shorter. Playfighting to no end. She’s let you pin her a few times, you’re pretty sure it’s sympathy, but you’ll take that victory. If you suggest a Ninja Mime marathon, she’s straight up refusing. This is a mini vacation from her parents. She doesn’t need to see a full feature length marathon of her dad. Weird food concoctions galore. You’re also dying each other’s hair stupid colours. She literally texts Jacqui ‘Pick a colour’ and then that’s it, you’ve dyed your hair. She’s so full of energy and it’s infectious. She’ll always make you smile. If you have to work from home, she’s going to try and be quite, but she wants to know what you’re doing. Everyone thinks she’s great in your work calls, she’s often requested to say hi. They love her.

·         Smoke (Tomas Vrbada): Smoke is more on the introverted side. He’s got books picked out. He aims to read a book a day where possible. And he’s totally keeping a reading log, so he has something to look back on. If you’re cooped up in the Lin Kuei temple, he’s going to be more stressed. There’s something ever so slightly stressful about been stuck with Bi-Han who gets very restless. That, and he thinks you both have to be quite, because everyone there is a nosey bastard. The one-time Smoke called you his dove, Bi-Han teased him and took the piss for three weeks straight. He can’t be dealing with that. That and he will eventually give up getting dressed. He will walk around in his dragon onesie, attempting to get some food. Ignoring all of Kuai’s attempts for him to get dressed. He’s in lockdown mode. Which means, his comfy socks are on, the string lights are on, and he’s ready to cuddle up with you. You did, once walk into the kitchen to see Bi-Han and Tomas dancing terribly, an empty bottle of vodka on the table, Kuai face in his hands blocking out the terrible dancing.  He’d also much prefer to be in lockdown in your apartment. In a mass of blankets, some ice-cream, lots of string lights and some good TV on. He’d take this opportunity to teach you a little Czech too. Also, in your apartment he can wear his dragon onesie and dance with you like an idiot. Without judgement and shaming the Lin Kuei. And embarrassing Kuai. A lot of terrible dancing, spinning, him picking you up and throwing you onto the sofa playfully. He becomes a little more extroverted around you. Don’t get me wrong he loves nothing more than comfy silence, reading in bed, whilst you’re drawing circles on his chest. But there’s something fun about eating brownie and pizza at 2 in the morning. Fucking wild. If you need to work from home, he respects your space and will sit silently reading, looking over and smiling as you work. He’ll bring you tea and sit crossed leg on the sofa with you. Your workmates think you’ve hit the jackpot.

Bi-Han:

He fucking hates lockdown. He doesn’t want to get sick. But he hates the same four walls. He starts irritating people on purpose. Not you though. Your precious and he loves you. But Kuai and Smoke are fair game. Queue hiding Smokes special shampoo, replacing Kuai’s uniform with one that’s too small for him. Winding people up to their limits. Because he’s bored and was born to be a little shit. At your apartment everything is different. He knows Kuai is more than capable of running things without him around. And is more than happy to do this for him. So, he’s off. He’s usually in his underwear, teasing the fuck out of you. Pray you don’t have to work from home, because he’s very distracting. Always stood behind the laptop when you’re on that zoom meeting, slowly slipping those joggers lower and lower. Lord have mercy on your soul. He does make appearances in your calls. On his best behaviour. Envy of everyone. He’ll cook for you when you’re working too. If you’re not working, he’ll always insist on cooking with you, he used to love cooking with Kuai when he was younger. But he’s grown up now and is grumpy all the time. He misses it. But he loves cooking with you. Queue you both dancing whilst waiting for the food to cook. Spinning you around. Maybe a quick make out session on the counter. He wants a bit of normality, and whilst the situation may not be normal, it’s sure as hell more normal than his usual schedule. He gets a little philosophical in the early hours of the morning. Talking about your future, if you want kids, what kind of dog you want, that sort of stuff. It’s times like this, where your both sat on your kitchen floor, sharing a drink, eating some good food, he’s glad he’s back to his usual self. You’re his everything and he doesn’t tell you that often enough. He loves been able to fall asleep with you and cuddle up with you. Loves waking up at a normal time and lounging in bed with you. Your lockdown time brings you closer together, to the point he probably would propose to you during lockdown. He hasn’t got a ring, but please accept his headband. Just till he can get you one.  

·         Kuai Liang (Sub Zero): Oho. Kuai is in for a rude awakening. He won’t want to leave Arktika. He cannot leave his clan. Bi-Han can be trusted, but he wants to remain with his clan. He’ll apologise that you’ve got to spend lockdown in the cold, but he’ll make sure you’re comfortable and have everything you may want and or need. He’s very curious when you’re working from home. He must admit he finds it interesting that you can still do your job, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. When people ask where you are, you have to lie, and you’re not sure they buy that your boyfriend owns a castle. But hey fucking ho. It’ll do. You’ve caught him once or twice drifting past, tea in hand, trying not to glance at your screen, when you’re on a call. You end up dragging him into the call and introducing him. Luckily, he’s in some more normal clothes. So, no questions get dragged up. He’s always handing you tea and bringing you sweet snacks to keep you going. Soft kisses on the forehead when he knows no one is watching. You kind of feel easier been at the temple. It’s in the middle of nowhere, which actually makes you calm and keeps you chilled. Kuai will make sure the fire is stoked. He’ll also leave you to work and will keep checking on you. He’s busy with his brother and the Lin Kuei. But he makes a habit of you both having lunch together. He’ll bring you lunch and you’ll both sit and eat together. On an evening in his free time, he spends it all with you. Asking about your day, asking how it went and if you’re okay. A lot of catching up in bed, with you both laid there, his arms wrapped around you, whilst you rest on his chest. He’ll whisper sweet things to you, brush the hair from your face and remind you that you’re his everything. Lockdown with Kuai has a lot of structure. And it’s nice to spend time with him.

·         Hanzo Hasashi (Scorpion):

He’s very similar to Kuai. He has a whole clan of ninja to run so he’s got to be out and about. So, if you need to work from home, he gets it… though he doesn’t need a laptop to do his work. Queue him leaving early and coming back late. He does make a habit of dropping in when you’re on lunch to take you for a walk through the gardens. He’ll also leave origami and notes for you to wake up to. He loves having you around, and very much like Kuai, he’d prefer you to be with the Shirai Ryu. You’re safe her and he does love waking up to you every morning. He loves it so much. He does actively avoid your zoom calls though. He’s a ninja so he’s pretty good at stealthy walking around, dipping and diving to avoid featuring on there. He just doesn’t like a lot of attention. He does end up one though. He had managed to secure a lie in. His bones were aching from training the night before. Takeda was entrusted with waking him… though he thought Grandmaster Grumpy face deserved a lie in. When he awakens, he lazily walks out of your shared room, wondering where you are, shirtless and only in some pants. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Only to softly say your name, open them, to see you’re smiling up at him awkwardly. You’re on a company wide call, and he’s stood there shirtless, hair tussled, and looking like sin incarnate. Queue a lot of people whistling so loudly, he can hear from the headphones you’re wearing. He mutters some swears in Japanese before moving on. You can’t help but giggle a lot, which makes him chuckle to himself. He’s stoic so there ain’t no teasing. But he does love folding the laptop down when you’re working over. Muttering how you can’t overwork yourself. Which is very hypocritical, but you’re not arguing. And you know you need a break, queue Hanzo suggesting a relaxing bath and cooking together. Slow dancing around his room is something he’s reluctant to do, but he does do it with you, because those eyes can’t get any bigger.  He loves this lockdown period. And he grows used to having you around all the time. Soft kisses and romantic talks, Philosophical debates and him slightly complaining about training. Takeda loves that you’re here. Hanzo isn’t such a hard arse with you round.

·         Johnny Cage:

Oh, fuck yes. Lockdown. He’s going to write a screenplay, arrange his awards, build that shelf for the Oscar he’s definitely winning this year. Reply to some fan mail… that was until you wake up and walk out in one of his shirts. His plan definitely changes. You end up trying on all his sunglasses, all his jackets and rings and pretending to be him. Which makes him laugh a lot. He’s sure he doesn’t actually walk and sound like that… does he? He hopes not. He’ll try and install a routine, but that goes out of the window the first night. You’re sat drinking smoothies at 1 in the morning. You’ll become nocturnal. So, it’s a good job he doesn’t have neighbours close by. Two-man parties, with you skyping Cassie, so you all can hang out together. Dancing around, playing those shitty games. Cassie and Johnny get competitive with trivial pursuit and monopoly. You’ve never seen anything like it. It’s insane. You both take the time to catch up on TV together, Johnny has a terrible habit of pointing out all the parts he could have had. But you know, turned down. He’s always got the best food in and best quarantine snacks. Whatever your heart desires he’s got it. Best internet too. So, working from home is so easy and so comfy. You’re the envy of your workmates. Who are very jealous you’re basically in quarantine in a mansion. Johnny does walk past your zoom call on purpose, pretending to act all coy about it. Just waiting to hear a squeal from someone who didn’t know you actually dated Johnny Cage. Que your sigh and inviting him over. He practically leaps onto the sofa. Arm around you. A smug smile as he introduces himself. Not like he’s been bicep curling his award behind you. He’ll also love doing facemasks with you. Nothing better than a pamper night on the couch, some crappy movie in the background (Not one of his though) and some good wine and food. He’s literally in heaven.

·         Raiden:

He needs to consult the Elder Gods before he can spend time with you. Taking the piss obviously. He doesn’t get sick, so he offers to go into the outside world for you if need be. He doesn’t mind taking one for the team. He’s interesting to spend Lockdown with. He’s so fascinated by everything in your apartment. He’s so interested in what you do for work. When you reveal that you’re working from home, he’s watching you from the sofa, cup of tea in his hand. He’s got that face on him. The one where he wants to ask a question but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to. When he sees you’re in a meeting, he asks what you’re doing, so you may just joke ‘Consulting the Elder God Bob, God of financing and accounts’ He does chuckle at that. He does a lot of self-care and a lot of reminding you to look after yourself. As soon as it hits time to clock off, he’s tapping the clock, shaking his head before gently reminding you, that you need to rest and relax and that you’ve earned it. He’s brewed some fresh tea and he would like you to join him. He’s so good to you. He doesn’t do been on the zoom calls though. He has waved once or twice. But other than that, he kind of watches curiously. He’s read all the books in your apartment, if you’ve got a cat, he’s in fucking heaven. Like, you’re cat ain’t walking over your screen, because he’s snuggled up to Raiden. The man is a magnet for cats. If your apartment is a little disorganised, he may sort it out. That cupboard full of mismatched Tupperware and pans, all sorted, all with the correct lids. You could cry when you pull out a pan and it’s got the right lid on it. He’ll love baking with you too. He’s a sucker for freshly baked bread and he teaches you how to make it. Nothing nicer than him having him wrapping his arms around your waist whilst you’re baking. Lockdown equals privacy and he’s taking advantage of his rare opportunity. At night he’ll love to sit on your balcony, watching the stars and enjoying the fresh air. He’s so warm and he’s got a comforting smell to him. He’s literally bliss.

·         Fujin: (Fujin could raw me after the trailer not going to lie)

Windy boi is happy he gets a break from all the bullshit. He does miss Raiden though. They don’t often spend a lot of time away from each other. So, he’s constantly communicating with him. But you make everything easier. That, and he wants to make sure you don’t get sick. By the Elder Gods he can’t have that. Likewise, if you have a cat, please let him hold and pet it. Nothing better than you looking up from your work call, seeing him stood there holding your cat, smiling away and scratching its chin. He appears often in your zoom call. Envy of all your colleagues, because who has hair that perfect and healthy. They ask for his stylist. He’s not sure how to respond to that. He got called a DILF and you had to explain that to him. You had to explain what a DILF was to the god of wind. Holy fuck it was awkward. He’ll let you braid his hair and he’ll also love it when you shower together. Because he loves been close and intimate with you. And the shower is a private place, so he feels he can open up and be more intimate with you without judgement. He’s still shy and new to this whole relationship thing. So, lockdown allows him to be close to you. You’ll also get to introduce him to pop culture. He’s not sure what to think about it. He’s got such a strange, dry sense of humour. When you’re watching Ninja Mime you hear him just say, ‘A clown in the movies, a clown in real life. Art imitates real life’ And you lose your shit. It’s the funniest thing to leave his mouth. He kind of loses it too. He gets really into Game of Thrones. He’s so into it. You don’t know how to tell him how the last season was shit. You don’t have the heart to break it to him. Teaching him to dance too. Oh god. Him getting a bit flustered and picking you up over his shoulder and spinning you around. Also, I can see lockdown running into summer, so you’ve got your own personal fan. At night, he’ll love to settle down in bed with you, whilst you talk absolute shit. You can bitch about anything, and he will listen, provide quips and make you feel better. He has no idea who Kate in Marketing is, but he knows, we don’t like her. I headcanon Fujin is pretty damn musically talented, so he’ll just randomly pick up that guitar or violin that’s there because A. Aesthetically pleasing and B. bought to try and discover a new hobby. And he’ll just start playing it. He loves seeing you smile too and he’s there for you if lockdown ever gets too much. He lives to make you smile.

#Mortal Kombat #Mortal Kombat 11 #mk 11 #Sub Zero #Kabal #Scorpion #Raiden #Fujin #Cassie Cage #Johnny Cage #Kuai Liang #Hanzo Hasashi #MK headcanon #Sub Zero x reader #Kabal x reader #Scorpion x reader #Raiden x reader #Fujin x reader #Cassie cage headcanon #Johnny Cage x reader #kuai liang x #Hanzo Hasashi x reader #Mortal Kombat headcanons

[ladywinterwitch]

Infamous Winter Soldier

Pairing: Sebastian Stan X Fan! Reader 

Summary: You were convinced by your eight years old Brother to attend Wizard world con. He absolutely wanted to see his favourite hero, the winter soldier. During the photo op, you catch the hero's eye.

Warnings: Just fluff, it kinda turns into a social media AU at the end (but it’s not, it’s just texts)

Word Count: 2987

A/n: Y’all this is more like a fever dream than anything, but a girl can always dream ;) But one thing’s for sure: I have met him and I assure you he is that charming and sweet. So sweet.

                                                 (Gif not mine)

You yawned, then procedeed to shake your head a bit, squeezing your eyes to try and stay focused. You've been up til late to finish an assignment for college, even though you knew that the morning after you would've had to wake up early. Why? Your little devil (no, in reality he was a sweetheart, but you really wanted to hate him for this) of a Brother convinced you to take him to Wizard World Con after your parents said no. 

-That’s totally your responsibility y/n. Try to take him home alive, will you?- those were the last words that your mother said to you before your departure. 

So there you were, driving a two hours trip, sleep deprived and with the only thing that keeps you alive awake being a cold brew latte from Starbucks. But someone else, precisely an eight year old way too hyperactive, was definetely more awake than you. The only thing stopping you from getting Harry to actually drive in your place was that he doesn’t have a driver license.

-Swoooosh! y/n look out! Captain America's shield is coming your way!- Harry screamed too loud for your liking. You rolled your eyes, narrowing them a bit for the noise, but playing along anyway.

-Oh no, help me.- you responded with the tiniest bit of enthusiasm that you could find.

-Don't worry, the winter soldier will catch with his metal arm!- he made a noise that was supposed to resemble the metal impact -You're safe now. Thank Bucky now.- He shoved a little action figure in your face and you gave it a slap.

-Harry don't do stuff like that! I'm driving. And who the hell is Bucky?- you huffed and then asked. You really didn't want a car crash to happen, especially not for a damn toy.

-What? He's the winter soldier! Bucky Barnes. You don't know that?- he said shocked.

-You Always call him Winter Soldier, and I haven't seen the movies, so no, I didn't know.- you responded.

-Don't worry, I'll fix it. So, James Buchanan Barnes was born on march 10 1917..- he started to tell his whole story, comic and movies and lore, just to be sure to not miss anything.

You mentally cursed yourself for asking and just hoped that at least this actor is a good person, if he was a duchebag, you probably wouln't have responded to your actions. Not just because it would be a tremendous disappointment for your brother, but also because your gas, money, time and sleep would've been wasted.

-

Harry finished his storytelling, and you murmured a 'Thank God' and commented that it was very interesting. But, even if it was a neverending ramble, it had been actually quite interesting. You never saw the movies, but now, hearing all that story, you thought about how difficult it must have been to bring everything to the screen. Not just story-wise, but also emotionally. All the dark things that he'd gone through.

-We're here buddy.- you announced as you parked outside the building.

-Yeah!- he cheered and clapped. You both got out of the car and while you were walking towards the entrance you saw some people. Some of them were in costume and some weren’t, but everyone had their pass on.

-Shit, I almost forgot.- you muttered looking in your bag and pulling out two passes and your IDs. You passed one to Harry while you kept the documents, and he put it around his little neck.

-Okay, now let's go inside and take look at the schedule c’mon.- he nodded happily and you went inside. You found yourself in the lobby and saw a sign that gave directions to the various rooms. You took the main corridor and arrived in a big common lobby, where a lot more people and several booths were present.

You walked in between, looking around. Some of the booths were mainly selling nerdy stuff, some t- shirts, some art, and so on. Others, that were empty, had above them a large paper board with a collage of the actors faces and their names.

-How's Bucky called again?- you asked your little brother.

-Sebastian Stan.- he answered, then pointing somewhere on your left.

-There! That's his table.- he ran towards the booth and you sighed, following him. You looked at the board and kinda tought that maybe it wouldn’t have been that bad. There were different photos, with different haircuts, but his handsome face was still the same. Blue eyes, sharp features, pink lips and a smile to die for.

-Well, damn.- you whispered to yourself, feeling definetly more awake.

Then you looked at the day’s schedule and saw that his first panel was at ten am. It was now nine thirty, so you wouldn't have to wait too long. You decided to go take your seats in the hall, and on the way you saw a few very long queues and your heart dropped a bit. It was going to be a long day.

-

The panel began exactly at the indicated time, and when the host annouced Sebastian, everyone cheered, screamed and clapped. He entered the stage with his fist in the air and a big smile.

You weren't exactly in first line, but you were close enough to see his figure clearly. He had a light grey tee shirt under a darker grey jacket, black jeans and brown suede shoes. His brown hair were slicked back and quite short at the sides, he had a scruff that adorned his sharp face.

You felt your stomach flutter a bit. You had never seen a man that attractive before. Not in real life at least. You were definetly going to watch those blessed movies once you got home.

-Hey everyone! How're you doing? Good? Yeah lemme hear ya!- he exclaimed with a big grin, laughing when the crowd cheered louder. You smiled and whoed a little with your Brother.

The panel begun and as the questions went on, you found out a few things about him: He couldn't take a compliment if his life depended on it, he was really smart and thoughtful, he was a dork but the adorable kind, he liked 80's rock and Star Wars. At some point a fan was so nervous to ask him her question that someone screamed 'someone give her a hug' and by everyone's shock she did recive that hug from Sebastian himself. You were a few seats away from the mic and took that opportunity to take a better look at him.

He squeezed her in his arms even raising her from the ground, and when he walked away laughing she fell on the floor. Same girl, same you thought.

After that little interruption the panel ended smoothly. He thanked everyone and said that he would see them at the photo ops.

You and your brother walked out of the hall to buy a snack. On the way to the vending machine you couln't stop thinking about him. You were bewitched by his voice, his mind and his appearence. How come you never found out about him before today? Harry was always talking about that Winter Soldier, but you thought that his interpreter deserved the same, if not more attention. But he was a little boy passionate about superheroes, so it was normal for him to prefer the punch and adventure kinda guy than tha thoughtful one.

-

Sebastian had his first photo op session and after his autograph session at four pm, and honeslty you didn't know what to do until then. It was just midday. So you looked at the schedule and opted for another actor's panel that was at three pm, maybe getting out a little early to take place in the queue.

From one to three pm there had been a lunch pause for everyone, so you and Harry went outside to eat a burger at a near diner. To get away from the crowd for a bit, but also because the food inside was hella expensive.

You had enough time to do everything calmly and you even had a brief call with your mother to update her.

-So, how was he?- she asked with a little excitement.

-Honestly? Surprising.- you laughed a bit.

-As good or bad?-

-Good. Very good. He seems like a very genuine and sweet person. We just saw his interview though. Maybe up close he'll be an asshole. But I doubt. He seemed like a really down to earth guy.- you heard her giggle a bit.

-My daughter has a crush on the superhero uh?- you blushed.

-What? No, no. I don't even know him, mom.- you quickly responded.

-Hey, chill honey. I was just messing with you. But I wouldn't blame you. You know, I've seen those movies under your brother's torture, but those pretty blue eyes didn't escape me. Nor did his even prettier face.- your mouth was agape.

-Mom!- she just chuckled like a schoolgirl.

-Oh, let an old woman dream a bit y/n. - your smirked and rolled your eyes.

-You're not old. Your fifties seem thirties, mom.You’re doing good.- you heard her sigh.

-My babygirl, always speaking the truth.- you laughed, shaking your head.

-I'll hear you later mom.-

-Later honey! Kiss the pretty soldier for me!- you hang up, shaking your head again. She was shameless.

-

This other actor's panel was interesting but not as much as Sebastian's one. Or maybe it was because you couldn't really concentrate. In any case four pm came rather quickly and you went outside to queue, and boy, did you wanted to run away.

An enormus line of people was already there, waiting. You told your brother to stay in line while you tried to see where it began. The first girls were in front of a closed blue tent, a big large bodyguard in front of it. You sighed, defeated, and went back to Harry.

After a few minutes the queue started to move. You were just behind the middle, and almost felt sorry for the people in the back, but you wouldn't have moved for any reason in the world.

You played a little with a game on your phone, looked at the notifications, the news and even searched for the weather broadcast for the day after. It was supposed to be sunny, just like today.

Speaking of sun, you began to feel a little hot, so you took off your black leather jacket and were left with your pale pink short shirtdress. You really liked that dress because it reminded you a bit of the 50's. You loose braid fell from your shoulder on your back when you slipped off the jacket.

You looked at your brother that apparently was more social than you, because he had been able to found a few other children to play with. Then you gazed at the line and you were surprised when you saw that just a few more people were in front of you. With all the people in front of you you were honestly surprised that it took just twenty minutes, but on the other hand, it didn't take ages to take a photo either.

You put your phone away, not wanting to waste any more battery before you got to your hotel in the evening. A lttle past five it was your turn. The bodyguard checked your passes and got you in.

Your brother straight up ran to Sebastian, hugging his hips, his head barely reached his stomach.

-Hey bud! It's good to see you too. What's your name?- he chuckled squatting in front of him.

You remained in the corner watching. You didn’t buy a photo, so you weren’t supposed to appear. You had your arms crossed, your bag and jacket pressed on your chest. You grinned looking at the scene.

-Harry.- he answered proudly. Sebastian nodded, keeping his smile. Then he looked up, straight at you. His gaze locked on you. Your smile faded and a tremendous blush took place.

-And who's that, Harry?- he asked, a little smirk on his lips.

-That's my big sister y/n!- he exclaimed. Sebastian got up putting a hand on your brother's shoulder.

-Isn't your sister taking the photo?- his look never left your figure.

-Uh-Uhm...no, I just accompanied him.- you responded nervously with a gesture of your hand. He shook his head making a fake disappointed face.

-Nah, you're too pretty to not be included. What do you think pal?- your brother begged with a c'mon and you reclutantly gave up, passing your jacket and bag to the assistant with an apologetic smile. Then you walked to them and you were finally face to face with him. He was taller than you, your head reached his ear more or less.

-Hi.- you said, not really knowing what to do. He flashed a big grin.

-Hi to you.-

-Mr, there's still line outside.- the assistant said and you looked away embarassed.

-Yeah, sorry. Big smile.- Sebastian said, while he circled Harry, who was showing off his non existing muscles, with one hand, and the other was placed on your waist, pulling you closer to him. The little tug making you instictively place a hand on his chest. They were both smiling, so you did your best and gave the camera a small shy smile of your own.

-Done!- the photographer said. You moved and the assistant gave you your stuff.

-Thankyou.- you said to the handsome man. He winked.

-My pleasure.- after that you exited the tent in front of you. You brother went away jumping from the joy, while you stayed behind, walking slowly. You still didn't process what just happened. You touched unconsciously your side, where his hand was, smiling like an idiot.

-

You went to fetch the photo, and while Harry was basically flying with happiness, you couldn't stop yourself to look at how close he was holding you, your hand on his chest your rosy cheeks and his handsome grin. Your heart was about to burst.

The photo ops were over about half an hour later, and the authographs should’ve been starting in fifteen minutes. Your mind wasn't giving you a break. You kept repeating what happened in your head. At first you felt like a damn teenager in love, but then more bitter questions started to take place in your mind. Was he joking? Was he always this flirty with everyone? Was he even single in the first place? Was he just trying to get you to relax or was he hitting on you?

All these questions almost made you decide to not accompany your brother at the autograph booth. But then you just decided that you just couldn't do that, so you took a deep breath and went to queue. This time you arrived a little early, so you were on the first half thankfully. The wait was just about ten minutes.

You were next. Harry left to you the task to give him the photo to sign, just because you were taller and had better access to the table. You slipped the picture under his eyes and as soon as he recognized you, he looked up and smirked.

-Hey again.- he said with a suave tone, signing the photo. -Hey bud, are you having fun?- he asked and you looked at the little boy next to you with a smile.

-Yes! I'm your biggest fan! The winter soldier is my favourite character- he told him. You returned your gaze to Sebastian and he took the photo in his hand, passing it to you. A small smile on his lips while he watched you. You gave him a shy smile in return and felt yourself melting. You took the photo and thanked him again.

-Thank you bud. And thank you.- he spoke to you. You gave a small nod and went on.

-

After the autographs you went around a bit between the merchandise booths and ended up buying a winter soldier backpack for your Brother, then you went out to grab dinner. It was just six thirty, but you were both hungry. You eated then you sent a text to your mother saying that everything was okay. You didn't wanted to go into details.

Then you drove for a few minutes to the nice hotel you booked for the night. As soon you stepped into the room, Harry changed into his Avengers pajamas and started to watch tv.

You unpacked the only change you brought, then you wanted to put in the suitcase the documents,passes and the other stuff, but your eyes fell on the back of the photo. You took it into your hand and saw that a yellow sticky note was attached at the back.

Can't give u my number, but feel free to text me in instagram dms Seb ;)  

You were  shocked. Sebastian fucking Stan asked you to text him? You went into the bathroom with your phone, needing a moment to recompose yourself.

-Oh my God.-  you did a face palm. Walking up and down the little bathroom, you nervously toyed with the phone in your hands.

What should I do? I mean the worst that can happen is that he'll not respond. But he should, 'cause he did write the note.Your mind was spinning. You looked at yourself in the mirror.

-Oh, fuck it.- you huffed and opened instagram. You had an account but had barely two posts. You weren't the type to post or stalk people, but you did follow a lot of pages with art, photography, music and movie stuff.

You searched his user and then tapped to the dm icon. His profile pic was a black and white photo

You wrote at least five different senteces, but then went for the simplest. Then you closed the app, blocked the screen and waited. You decided to refresh yourself in the meantime. You brushed your teeth and just when you were about to take off the make up on your eyes, a notification popped up.You took the phone and unblocked it with shaky hands.

You closed the app and went back to your room with a smile plastered on your face, and almost didn't notice that your brother had fallen asleep. You you covered him with the bed covers, turned the tv off and then changed into your pjs and went to bed. You couln't wait for Tomorrow.

So, first off, I feel the need to precise that OBVIOUSLY the chat is fake and photoshopped. It’s kind of obvious, but ya know not everyone has enough braincells I guess. Just to be sure. Anyways, hope you liked it. Let me know what you thought <3

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagines #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fan #marvel cast #Marvel MCU #marvel #MCU #mcu au #mcu imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #oneshot #bucky barnes #winter soldier #white wolf #my writing #reader insert #yn #sebastian stan fluff #james buchanan barnes #fanfic #imagine #imagine sebastian stan

[starmakerdotcom]

summary : after their fight, min and leda just want things to go back the way they used to be. part two of this !

characters : kang minjung , na jaemin (nct) , son yongmi , jung yeonwoo , cho minjae

genre : i think angst but honestly idk anymore hsjsb

warnings : more swearing , slightly less arguing , uhhh crying ? i guess ? they’re less mean this time around which is always nice

words : 2.0k

[ july 2019, 4:15 pm, solar dorms ]

minjung really needed to stop dressing up so nice on rainy days.

she stood on the sidewalk next to the dorm building, wringing out her soaked sweater under an awning that protected her from the pouring rain inches away from where she stood. jaemin wasn’t there to walk her home that day, he had to do something... somewhere. she wasn’t too sure, she didn’t really pay attention to what he said, but she didn’t mind walking by herself anyway.

she’d told jaemin about the fight, and jaemin was more civilized about it than both minjung and yongmi (and elizabeth) had been. he suggested apologizing to yongmi, which minjung was (obviously) planning on doing at some point, she kind of had to eventually anyway. the only problem was that she wasn’t the best at apologizing, and she’d spent a good two days trying to think of a way to apologizing without sounding passive aggressive and blaming it on something other than her own actions. and knowing yongmi she’d go on some spiel about how minjung was only apologizing to make herself feel better and not for the sake of yongmi and trying to better their friendship, as it always went. either that or she’d put all the blame on herself instead, which minjung didn’t want to happen in this scenario.

surprisingly, the last few days had been pretty uneventful since her and yongmi had gotten into that fight. they hadn’t talked, they hadn’t even spared each other so much as a look, and when they did accidentally make eye contact they would both look away as quickly as one would retract their hand from a burning hot surface. this proved to be difficult due to their schedules, but they managed somehow, or so minjung thought.

she felt her phone buzz in her pocket, and when she pulled it out, she’d gotten two texts from jaemin.

[ new message from : jaemin <3 ]

[ jaemin : have you seen this? ]

[ jaemin : https://www.soompi.com/article ]

well fuck. turns out people knew a lot more than minjung thought.

she took a loud clap of thunder that made her flinch as her queue to go inside and dry off. reaching up and flattening her frizzy hair, she sighed, knowing her luck she’d probably have streaks of purple running down the back of her neck from the mix of sweat and rainwater from walking a few streets by herself, and the recent dye job she’d done a few days prior. once she was inside and in the elevator headed up to her dorm’s floor, minjung leaned against the wall of the elevator, huffing. she wondered where yongmi was, if she was maybe in the dorm, sitting on the couch watching tv, or maybe she’d retreated to the cafe in the company building across the street, sipping a hot chocolate and reading a book, away from the rain and any of her worries.

once she’d gotten into the dorm, yongmi wasn’t anywhere that she could see, her room, minjung assumed. that’s really the only place in the dorm where anyone could have the slightest bit of privacy, just kick your roommates out and tell them to go into the living room or the spare room (that wasn’t used as a spare room and was more than often used as a gaming room). instead, in the living room was yeonwoo at one end of the couch, and minjae at the other, watching some show on the tv.

minjae turned to glance at the door when minjung walked in. “did you get the good noodles?” he asked, to which she started digging into the small shopping bag she was holding. “oh heck yeah!” he exclaimed when she grabbed two packs of instant noodles out of the shopping bag.

“have you guys seen yongmi anywhere?” minjung asked as she took off her shoes and walked towards the kitchen to put her bag on the counter.

yeonwoo shrugged, “her room probably, why? you finally gonna apologize?”

minjung paused for a beat, “most likely,” she replied, avoiding yeonwoo’s eye while she unloaded the snacks she’d picked up from her bag and into the cupboards.

“did you talk about it with jaemin?” yeonwoo asked.

minjung nodded, laughing out of nervousness and awkwardness more than anything, “he handled it better than either of us did. that boy is a saint, i don’t know what i did to deserve him.”

“me neither,” yeonwoo snorted, causing minjung to turn around and shoot her a death glare.

yongmi, like minjung had assumed, was in her room, curled up on her bed. she didn’t even notice minjung slowly open the door and inch her way inside until she cleared her throat in an attempt to make her presence known. when yongmi looked up at her, minjung’s chest tightened uncomfortably.

“can i come in?” minjung asked quietly, to which yongmi nodded, and patted a spot next to her on the bed. minjung instead sat at the end of the bed, and yongmi straightened, sitting up better to look at her.

“so...” minjung started, “how are-“

“what’s actually the reason you’re in here?” yongmi blurted, “are you here to apologize? because i don’t think i want that unless it’s an actual apology.”

“i... i actually am here to apologize,” minjung stuttered, pulling at a loose thread on the bedsheets.

“are you apologizing to make yourself feel better, or is it gonna be a genuine apology? did jaemin put you up to this?”

“i mean- yeah, kind of, but i really do- i do actually wanna apologize for the way i’ve been... talking to you,” minjung kept her head down the whole time she spoke, either too ashamed or uncomfortable to look yongmi in the eye.

after a few beats of silence, yongmi sighed. “i shouldn’t have called you a bitch, that wasn’t justified. i was just frustrated with the way you’d been talking to me, and i hadn’t said anything about it.”

minjung nodded, “i shouldn’t have been acting like a bitch. did you see the article?”

“what article?”

“oh, this one, jaemin sent it to me earlier,” minjung held out her phone and clicked on the article. she could see yongmi’s eyes quickly scan the short article from behind the light that minjung’s phone casted on her glasses.

“did you look at the comments?” yongmi asked quietly after a minute.

minjung shook her head, “i don’t like looking at comments.”

“why not?”

“it’s just what i’ve always been told. people always tell me not to look.”

despite minjung’s words, yongmi scrolled down to the comments anyway, “look here... i think fans are overreacting, if you live in a dorm with someone you see everyday you’re bound to not get along with them 24/7. that’s a good point... i’m sure everything’s fine! okay... min ruins their image for me anyway, and leda doesn’t stand out much, she’s always at the- okay, that one is just plain mean.”

“and that’s why,” minjung said.

“is this why you want to apologize? to get the media off our backs?” yongmi asked, pushing minjung’s phone back in her direction.

“no! i-“ minjung stopped herself when she began to raise her voice, and groaned. “i actually want to apologize and say i’m sorry, why is this so difficult?”

“because you’re not used to apologizing to people,” yongmi replied knowingly, “you never hold yourself accountable.” minjung had almost forgotten how long they’d known each other, and just how much they knew about each other. it sucked, it fucking sucked that they felt like they didn’t know each other anymore despite their closeness just a year prior.

minjung stared down, unmoving, eyes burning holes in the bedsheets, she didn’t want to admit it, but yongmi was right. and to the former’s surprise, yongmi spoke again.

“i just...” the redhead bit her lip, trying her best to not let the tears in her eyes spill pitifully down her cheeks and into her lap, “i just wanna know what happened. between debut and now... why we grew apart so much.”

the shakiness in yongmi’s voice struck a deep chord in minjung’s heart, one that she hadn’t been aware of since she was maybe seventeen, when she and yongmi were young trainees with empty promises of a near debut, without another care in the world. to be honest, she had no clue why the two of them had grown apart. was it jaemin? was he taking up too much of minjung’s time? she shouldn’t be blaming that on him, he had nothing to do with it. for all minjung knew, it could be entirely her fault.

“i wish i knew,” minjung replied quietly as yongmi let a tear slip down her cheek.

she quickly wiped her cheek before laughing nervously, “oh god, i don’t want this to turn into a pity party. i just wanna make sure we’re apologizing for the right reasons.”

minjung paused, “...we? no, i should be the one apologizing-“

“no, i overreacted,” yongmi sighed, “i shouldn’t have called you a bitch, i shouldn’t have talked about your parents like that, and you were right. i need to get over myself and be more assertive.”

“wh-“ minjung stopped, she’d almost forgotten how forgiving yongmi was, too forgiving, definitely, she wouldn’t even let minjung apologize without apologizing herself first- even though minjung had a lot more of a reason to than yongmi did.

“you don’t- don’t apologize for that, that’s something you can’t help. i can help acting like a bitch, i can work on that.”

yongmi stuck out her bottom lip in a sad pout, she looked like a kicked puppy as she tried to argue, “but i wanna apologize-“

“you don’t need to!” minjung stopped herself again so when she realized she was beginning to raise her voice again. she immediately slowed down and her voice softened, “you didn’t do anything wrong, i just want you to know that. can i apologize for myself for once?” she laughed awkwardly in a flimsy attempt to ease the once again growing tension.

“i’ve already accepted your apology, but all i really want, is-” minjung watched helplessly as tears began forming in yongmi’s eyes again as she continued, “i just want things to go back to the way they were before, i guess?”

“i do too,” minjung replied quietly, looking up at yongmi and seeing just the raw sadness behind her eyes. she finally let the tears fall, and minjung watched as tears began to stream down her cheeks, not the same frustrated tears from a few days prior, but tears just filled with complete exhaustion and mourning. mourning for all the minutes spent sweaty and exhaustingly laughing at stupid stories when they had a break from training, the hours spent talking on the grassy hill across the street from the company building, the days spent sneaking out and laughing down the streets of downtown seoul, the nights spent staring up at the sky and mindlessly spilling their biggest desires. yongmi missed it, minjung missed it, they missed the sense of complete comfort associated with those days that felt like decades ago.

it made minjung want to cry too, and although a thin layer of tears brimmed her eyes, she didn’t let them fall. she never cried, she’d only ever cried once in front of her other members, and then another on camera, she hated it, never again, she vowed.

as much as she hated physical affection (unless it was from her boyfriend obviously), minjung felt the overwhelming urge to pull yongmi into a heartfelt hug. the former wrapped her arms tightly around the redhead, letting her silently cry into her shoulder without a word, and they stayed like that. they stayed like that for what felt like an hour but probably wasn’t more than five minutes.

“i’m sorry,” minjung whispered, her voice cracking at the end of her sentiment, and although quiet, yongmi could tell that she absolutely meant it, and that maybe, things could start to go back to the way they were before.

#group.solar #solar.scenarios #min.dev #leda.dev #WHEW thats enough of that im done w writing angst for a while thank u #except for a shorter ish botanica piece i wrote a while ago thats going up later lolol #koc #idol!group #idol!au #idol!oc #kpop oc #oc kpop group #kpop imagines #fake kpop group #idol oc #starmaker entertainment #made up kpop agency

[aelia-likes-monsters]

Patreon Teaser

A few things going on over on my Patreon this month. 

Ask a Monster - Ask any of my OCs questions. So far we’ve asked Alexander from Office Orcs about his ideal date, and Caleb from Lakehouse Lizardman about his favorite game with his siblings. I’ve got another couple questions in my queue. All patron tiers are eligible to ask questions.

Art - I’ve posted some art over there, and there’s some more scheduled. 

Stories - I’ve got a brand new story queued about the softest moth and some sandwiches, all 6600 words of Part One go live on January 21st at 9am Pacific. 

Next Month (Feburary 2020) I’ll be mailing out Valentines cards to my eligible tiers. I’m already plotting out how to make those special.

Before you stress too much, I’ll post my usual reminder that at this time no art/writing is exclusive to Patreon except the ability to participate in the prompts. Patrons just get early access to content. 

Below the cut I’ve got a bit of a preview of the moth story. CW for financial stress; it gets better, but it starts a bit rough.

It’s pushing midnight, and you’re sitting in the gas station parking lot crying softly to yourself. You’re counting your tips and then counting them again, as though the number is going to change and you’re magically going to have even another dollar. You know that’s not how any of this works, but you keep doing it with a silent urgency as you struggle to decide what to do. 

There’s a soft tap at your window. A hulking form fills the space outside, and you’d be scared, except you know who this is. It’s the attendant at the local-grocery-slash-gas-station you’re parked at. He’s a large, fluffy, humanoid moth, and you think he’s adorable. 

You’re mortified that he’s seen you like this. 

“I’m so sorry for loitering--” you begin as you roll down the window. You rub your hands quickly over your face, determined to look more composed than you are. 

It’s been a rough month. Rent had put your account in the negative, and you’ve only got enough cash to either eat or put a gallon of gas in your car to get home, but not both. Your stomach is growling, and you’re not sure whether you’d rather go home to empty cupboards or get something from the convenience store here and sleep in your car.

“That’s not why I’m here,” He says, his voice gentle, warm, and soft as always. 

“It’s not?” You ask, glancing around the empty parking lot. You’re pretty conspicuous; your car is the only one here, and you’ve been sitting here for an hour. He has every right to ask  you to move along.

“I wanted to check on you.” He tells you. “Make sure you’re okay.” 

With that, a fresh torrent of tears spills down your cheeks despite yourself. You sag forward against the steering wheel, and feel the leather press into your forehead. You were prepared for a scolding, but not kindness. It’s always that moment of kindness that does you in when you’re holding it together by a thread. 

You hear a trill of distress from him. 

“Look,” His voice penetrates your sobs. “You don’t need to tell me everything, but how about you come inside, sit down, have a snack and a cup of coffee, or cocoa or whatever you like from the hot drinks. It’ll help.” 

“I… I can’t afford it.” You admit. You hate that you have to say those words, especially to him. You like him a lot, had wanted to make a good impression on him. Be friends, maybe more. Now he’s seen what a disaster you are, and that fragile hope is crumbling.

“It’s on me. I insist.”

“But…” 

“You can come in and get it, or I’m bringing you cocoa and a cookie.” He says, and it’s the first time you’ve heard a stern edge to his voice. “It’s clear you need it, and it’s the least I can do for you.” 

“Oh.” You wipe at your eyes again. You think about arguing, but you’re hungry, and you’re exhausted. You’ll find a way to repay him later. “Okay.” 

He steps back to give you room to get out of the car, and though there’s nothing of value in there, you click the button to lock it anyway. 

Once inside, he quietly ushers you to the coffee counter, and looks at you expectantly. You glance from him to the machine, and press the button for cocoa. It’s too late, and you’re too wrung out to want caffeine right now. The machine dispenses cocoa into a paper cup. The moth grabs a container, and tops it off with mini marshmallows. Despite yourself, you crack a smile.

You can get instant access to all my Patreon stories by becoming a Patron. Tiers start at $1. Part one of the Moth’s story goes live on Patreon on January 21, 2020.

#aelia has a patreon #aelia talks #aelia promotes herself

[smilingleoo]

Perfect Coincidence-JJK

Summary: _“I couldn’t hear you, the music was so fucking loud...”-he mumbled on your skin, fingertips taunting your bare tight-“That’s why I’m getting paid for, Jeon”

Warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol and SMUT

Author’s Note: Okay! First of all, I’m really sorry for not uploading; I’ve been really busy with school and exams. But I found some time to finish this one-shot, so I hope you like it! Secondly, this is my first time writing smut...so that’s all...

———-

———-

“Why don’t you give it a try?”-Jimin asked, tossing the water bottle towards Jungkook’s way. His brown hair dripped from the hot shower he had taken after football practice in order to see if his headache would disappear ye it hadn’t, and Jimin’s constant reminders didn’t help either-“I don’t feel like going, ‘kay?”-Jungkook replied slightly annoyed while shuffling his caramel locks with a white towel he had packed inside his training bag-“Why do you want me to go anyways? You have Taehyung to party with and you’re actually pretty fucking sociable!”

“You know why I’m trying to convince you, Jungkook”-Jimin threatened, catching the returning water bottle and signalling him with it-“Don’t play dumb”. If Jungkook hadn’t been so tired and sore, he would have argued with his friend about his personal life and how he could solve his own problems alone. Yet he didn’t feel like getting into a verbal fight with the exotic-haired coloured athlete besides him, so he decided to just shrug the topic off and ask him another sort of question-“Is your girlfriend going?”

“I don’t think so”-he declared, packing his sweated training uniform and zipping his backpack close-“I broke up with her yesterday. She cheated on me and didn’t even apologize”-his frustrated huff clearly portrayed his disappointment and Jungkook didn’t know what to do. Therefore, he pulled on his t-shirt and clutched his friend’s shoulder reassuringly-“Listen Gukk, I don’t want you to lose things because you still miss her, okay? She was your first love but she is older than you. She taught you how to be with a woman was, how it feels to be ambitious. But we are still in high school and being with your math teacher is not your best option...”

Jungkook’s heart cracked a little bit more with his friend's statement. Yet it was not because of the words he said but for the fact that he was right. He had slept with his teacher, had taken her to some dates and had fallen in love with her. However, she just seemed to be playing around for a while. She wouldn’t have stayed, not in a million years, with someone who was barely legal. And he had known it when he had touched her for the first time; he had known every condition of it. But list had taken over him and his sensitive heart couldn’t afford to go through the painful consequences.

“Come with me tonight”-Jimin continued, now grasping the door’s handle and gifting Jungkook the last pleading gaze-“Meet other girls, fuck with someone else for my sanity’s sale, god”-he chuckled before opening the door and shouting a shallow farewell.

Maybe he would think about it when he arrived home.

()

“I can’t believe you fucking convinced me to come”

Oh god, he regretted agreeing with Jimin so bad.

There he stood, tight black jeans hugging his toned legs and a white shirt he had used a thousand times before. This would have been a normal outfit for him yet the silver chain hanging on his chest and some more accessories Jimin had urged him to wear, made the look much fancier-“I will look for something to drink”-Jimin stated before walking past Jungkook and into the bursting house-“Don’t get lost!”

Some girls gathered outside the house’s entrance eyed Jimin’s figure before adverting their gazes to Jungkook, who just served his own eyes from them and concentrated on an interesting stone beside him. Why did he agree to do this anyways? He could have hit the gym or play video games in the safety of his own, precious room. It wasn’t that he was not sociable nor weird, he just didn’t feel like coming to this kind of parties; where people drunk alcohol until they had no neurons left and the music was too loud to even hear what people said.

But he needed to clear his mind from everything that had been happening recently. He had to throw _her _out of his head before it was extremely late. So he grabbed the last bit of courage he had left, puffed his chest slightly and entered the crowded area with a confident aura surrounding his body.

As soon as he stepped in, a horrendous scent slapped him. He had to squint his nose slightly so as not to gag, his stomach begging him to run outside. Yet he held firm and pushed himself past the obnoxious basketball team, who were throwing their stupid orange ball around, and into the large living room filled with dancing teenagers. Jung Hoseok, the dancing prodigy and current host, had an expensive mansion secluded from the city. His parents were barely home due to business trips or late meetings which demanded the loss of a night inside their place. Therefore, his house was the first place to throw a good party. Not to mention the fact that his kitchen or living was five times bigger than Jungkook’s humble dwelling.

“Big party, huh?”-Taehyung beamed from behind Jungkook, a full red cup in his right hand while his left arm was draped around a petite girl’s shoulder. She seemed a little shy and introverted, the tall guy’s presence wrapping a cute crimson blush on her round cheeks-“Oh, where are my manners? This is Jungkook”-Taehyng slurred, signalling the lost boy with a slow neck movement. Jungkook offered her a friendly grin before waving his hand. She nodded gratefully-“Jungkook, this is...this is...”

“-Sarah, nice t-to meet you”-she interrupted Jungkook’s clearly drunk friend and extended her delicate hand, which he took with ease. The booming music made the conversation quite uncomfortable so Jungkook decided to leave both of them alone and enter the spacious kitchen. The clear lightning invaded Jungkook’s retina like a fierce punch, obliging him to let out a frustrated groan and pull a hand above his eyes. Damn, why would they keep lights on?

Angrily, he stomped towards the bar, grabbed a cup of something he wasn’t quite sure if the colour was normal and ushered his legs out of the place. Unfortunately, he bumped into someone, dropping her nearly empty cup to the floor. Jungkook was already preparing himself for the sure-to-come slap but nothing touched him. Actually, he heard the most beautiful laugh he had ever witnessed in his short life-“I should be thanking you”-Jungkook couldn’t focus his sight in order to take in her features, for the annoying light had damaged his vision greatly-“That tasted like actual shit”

He chuckled and tried to ask the stranger her name. Yet he couldn’t because he heard how Hoseok called out for her and how a small ‘See you later’ left her mouth.

()

“I was just looking for a drink”-you taunted Hoseok, swaying your newly refilled cup in front of his bothersome expression. You knew he wasn’t actually mad at you but just jealous of your minimal interaction with Jeon Jungkook, the innocent football team captain that had every girl swaying for him.

But you were not those girls.

However, you were not blind either, having analyzed the athlete’s intriguing beauty more than once. Training hours, for example, where the most convenient situations in which you could stare at him without being tackled by an arrogant cheerleader or a mad psychopath. An advantage of playing field hockey was that most of the time, your schedules collided with the male ones; offering you a pleasing view of those sweaty men who seemed to be gods-or that’s what Jen, our coach and single forty-year-old mother, said.

Anyways, Jeon Jungkook was a handsome guy who was too oblivious to notice the girls formed a straight line behind him-“What? Little Hobi is scared that his best friend is going to abandon him for some boy?”-you playfully sang while pinching his right cheek. Hoseok chuckled and swerved his head out of your reach, pushing you up to your spot as DJ-“No, I’m worried that if you go for too long, someone will get up here and start playing with your toys”-he winked and nodded towards your precious equipment-“I don’t want to comfort you like the other time”

Remembering how you had suffered when your old mixer had been broken by some random guy at a private gathering, you swiftly grasped your headphones and began mixing the songs that had been requested.

Music was your passion.

Your mother was the one who introduced you to it. She was the most talented violinist you had the pleasure to hear. The delicate strokes she created with her refined bow were majestic, entrancing every single person in the audience. You remembered fondly how your father danced at the violin’s rhythm with you draped around his embrace. Unfortunately, your parents died during a business trip and you were left with your uncle and your obnoxious little cousins. Although you loved them, they didn’t even make an effort to understand your love for music, abolishing everything related to it from his house.

Actually, that’s how you met Hoseok. Because of your uncle’s intolerance, you sought another place to express yourself. Practice rooms were always occupied by band or orchestra students and although you knew how to play some instruments, you wanted to be by yourself. The only sector available was the dancing salons, which were barely used. You had gone to the booking reception and asked for the room but someone next to you seemed to have the same idea. Jung Hoseok had been the only student you had fought over a practice room. And you were glad you did because if you hadn’t, you would have never actually become best friends.

Your fingers skipped through the vibrating board, twirling and pressing buttons repeatedly. Your laptop showed the songs placed on a queue and the ones that were currently breaking through the large speakers at your sides. Instinctively, your body moved with the rhythm, head bopping and eyes fluttered shut. Everything was fine, you were having a great time and no one seemed to complain about your skills.

‘Just dance and feel, the night has just begun’

()

Jungkook washed his hands and turned off the bathroom’s lights before exciting the expensive room and emerging into the dim corridor. He heard a giggle from the door facing him and then a loud moan followed, unfaltering bumps accompanying the latter sound. Quickly, he drowned his palms into his pockets and made sure to place himself as far as possible from there.

At the middle of his journey, Jimin had altered his trajectory and had dragged him into the living room. Music had risen from the last time he had stepped inside the area and more people crowded the space. The same girls that had been gossiping at the house’s entrance were now swaying their hips while on top of Hoseok’s coffee table, boys admiring their figures from the cushion below. Colourful lights flashed everyone’s faces with ferocity as Jimin began dancing to the song’s steady rhythm.

Jungkook followed him right away.

“Look to your right”-his friend advised. Jungkook did so, watching how two boys flirted with each other before crashing their lips together-“What do you think?”

“That people’s sexuality is not of your business?”

“What? No!”-Jimin exclaimed-“I meant the DJ, Jungkook”

So he twirled his head once again, now aiming a little bit further into the jumping crowd. At the top of what it seemed to be wooden deck there, you stood, enjoying the music whereas a red plastic cup accompanied your hand´s movements. You were absolutely stunning. Large black headphones contrasted with your flawless mane, which cascaded down your happily relaxed features. Although he could not see your legs, your upper half was decorated with a strapless white top, accentuating your breasts and shoulders. Now Jungkook knew why Jimin had nudged him to direct his gaze towards your place. You were not only sexy but also incredibly smooth.

You introduced the following song by lowering the former´s one volume, leaving just the bass playing. Afterwards, you raised the volume at its maximum and dropped the actual beat, receiving a drowning round of excited scream-” She´s Y/N”-Jimin explained in Jungkook´s ear, making him advert his piercing stare from you-” Hoseok´s hot best friend”

Out of nowhere, Taehyung emerged from the aggressive mass besides Jungkook´s friend. He was clearly drunker than he had intended to be, tumbling past Jimin and finally plopping on Jungkook´s hard shoulder-” What are we discussing ´bout?”-he slurred lazily. Jimin thrust his neck sideways, signalling a secluded couch where their friend could rest for a while. Pushing Taehyung with no mercy, Jungkook managed to slump the nearly dead body over the inviting cushion. Jimin sat on the narrow table in front, sighing quietly before swinging his hand and motioning Jungkook to imitate him-” So?”-Taehyung was not giving up-” What were you talking ´bout?”

“Hoseok´s friend”-Jimin answered but the brunette seemed unconvinced, turning to Jungkook for a second opinion. The lost boy just nodded reassuringly, his gaze moving through the crowd and landing on top of you once again. God, now you had taken off your headsets; savage hair swaying with your whole body-“Her? Yeah, she’s hot...”-Taehyung agreed before bumping his head back down and extending his hands upwards-“Y/N L/N!”-he began to call for you, earning some weird looks-“Jimin and Jungkook are demanding your attention~!”

Jimin was the one who jumped on top of him and covered his mouth with his palm, spatting a ‘Are you stupid?’ to his face. Sighing with relief, Jungkook knew you were too far away to even hear what Taehyung had screamed. However, despite that fact, he didn’t take into account that Hoseok had been standing behind Jungkook during the entire scene-“I mean, he is not wrong”-Hoseok chuckled nonchalantly. Jimin’s face should have been recorded. Eyes widened, lips opened and hands still on top of Taehyung’s face, Jimin’s concern could be seen from miles away.

Jung Hoseok was not the scary type of man. In fact, he was extremely sociable and sweet, known throughout the campus for his charisma and dancing skills. But that did not abolish the fact that he was actually really protective over what he loved. His family, his dog, his girlfriend... his best friend; were practically untouchable. Therefore, it was no secret you were single yet no one dared to speak to you romantically-“W-We...”-Jimin gaped but no words left his mouth.

“We were talking about Y/N”-Jungkook spoke up, twirling his torso in order to face the man behind him. Hoseok seemed amused as if challenging him was not on his plans but Jungkook did not flatter, maintaining eye contact with Hoseok’s flaming stare-“Is there a problem?”

Maybe it was the alcohol talking for him but he was uttering things he would have never even dared to think. Now he was standing, facing Hoseok fully-“It depends on what you were saying”-he answered, thrusting his palms slightly forward sending Jungkook backwards-“What? She’s of your property now?”-the football captain retorted, biting down on his tongue before clenching his jaw strenuously.

Hoseok gazed the unpleasing audience around them, judging without fear their actions. He gulped but decided to stand for himself and, most importantly, you-“No”-he spat-“But no one should speak about a person like that”

“Oh, don’t be such hypocrite!”-Jungkook rolled his eyes, crossing his toned forearms over his puffed chest-“We both know you’re no saint, Hoseok”

Regret tumbled on Jungkook’s opponent’s features, images of his past experience hunting him down. Despite wearing a huge smile every day, Hoseok did have some deep secrets too; like the fact, he had harassed a girl during a party held after an important game. Maybe that was the reason why he was so overprotective with you...maybe he was just trying to keep you safe from people’s lack of willpower.

Everyone gasped with Jungkook’s statement and he caught how the music had lowered its volume abruptly, leaving a melodious hum floating with the tense air. His eyes darted your way but you were nowhere in sight. Because of his worry, Jungkook was unable to dodge Hoseok’s punch towards his stomach, which had him vending in a matter of seconds. Coughing, he gained some strength and swerved away from Hoseok’s exasperated reach. The red-haired threw one, two, even three fists but they all landed on spots besides Jungkook.

Hoseok was now stumbling, clearly exhausted. Jungkook took advantage of his state and struck a final kick into his abdomen, grabbing his shirt’s collar so as for him to face him entirely-“Don’t ever touch me again...”

“What’s happening?”

You emerged from the crowd, beautiful features drowned by concern. Now Jungkook could admire you fully, taking in your slender legs peeking through your tight black skirt, your feet covered with same-coloured heels. Despite being smaller than him, Jungkook felt intimidated by your confidence. As you moved forward to the scene, some people began whispering mischievously; trying to figure out what would happen.

Jungkook felt how his stomach bolted notoriously while you helped Hoseok up, resting his right arm around your shoulders. Finally, your gaze landed on his; embarrassment flashing through your iris. Everyone seemed to vanish, the only sound remaining being Jungkook’s labour breathing and drumming heartbeat. Mesmerizing eyes were still fixed upon him and Jungkook couldn’t help but wonder if you were just as amazed as he was with you.

But unbelievable moments were meant to be broken for you had a drunken man attached to your side and thousands of excited teenagers waiting for the party to start again-“I’m going to take Hoseok to his room!”-you announced smiling vaguely as if you were done with everyone and everything. Yet you managed to raise the music’s volume with a tiny remote control and leave the place without anyone noticing. Well, everyone but Jungkook.

“Jimin, take care of Taehyung”-Jungkook declared before disappearing followed by Jimin’s annoyed growl. You could be in danger, right? Being with a nearly-unconscious adolescent could lead to various scenarios, maybe Hoseok was not as innocent as everyone thought he was... and Jungkook knew that perfectly well.

With that thought in mind, his legs sped up through the narrow hallway which introduced him to Hoseok’s gigantic room. The door was cracked open, so you might have already entered the place. Pushing the piece of wood at its end, Jungkook stepped inside the room and relief washed over him. There you were, knelt besides Hoseok’s dreaming form on his bed. Jungkook was reluctant in whether he should have approached you or not but you were yet again faster than him, twirling your torso and gifting him a marvellous view of your profile.

God, he had seen you during practice. How your ponytail would flop from one side to another when you ran or how your determination would never leave your features although things were not going exactly as you had planned. He had always thought you were beautiful. However, when the moonlight shone across your blushed cheeks and your lips were slightly opened so as to breath properly, he pictured you as an actual goddess.

“I’m fine, Jungkook”-you whispered, standing up and walking towards him-“Go...enjoy the party”

Yet Jungkook didn’t move. Even though your warm grin ordered him to follow your indirect order, he didn’t want to change you for some kind of social-fucking-gathering-“Let’s go together then”-he proposed and you giggled shaking your head-“I have to take care of Hoseok”

And by the way, you looked towards your best friend, he knew there would be no excuse that would drag you out of the room. Therefore, Jungkook sighed closing the door and then proceeded to look for a comfortable place to lay himself on. Surveying the enormous expansion, he smirked to himself when he bumped into a blue cushion which was far from Hoseok’s bed but close enough to keep an eye on him-“What are you doing?”

You inquired from the threshold, arms crossed and eyebrows raised in amusement-“If you are not going downstairs with me...”-Jungkook answered while plopping himself down on the couch-“Then I don’t want to go”

“And why is that?”-you played along, discarding your complex heels away and moving tentatively from the door. Jungkook couldn’t help but admire how your tightly hugged hips swayed steadily as if music’s beats slept inside you. Soon enough your reached Jungkook’s comfortable position and decided to stay standing in front of him, staring how his tanned chest peaked through the collar of his opened shirt or how his worked tights looked exceptionally good with those jeans. Either one of them, you had to admit that maybe you were one of those girls who had been charmed by Jungkook’s handsomeness.

“Because there’s no other person who interests me down there more than you”-he dared to admit. Yes, you had lost all coherent thoughts. You crawled on top of his lap, sensing how his hands immediately groped your bottom earning a slight gasp from you-“And you? Why don’t you go downstairs?”-he whispered in your ear.

“I have to take care of Hoseok”-you said. Lips mocked each other, floating just above on another. His mint breath fanned your features and his large hands had rolled up your skirt, leaving your white lingerie exposed to anyone who entered the room-“Is that it?”-he repeated now caressing a finger to your already humid opening which was still covered by the lace cloth.

Your eyes fluttered shut in response to his minimal touch, bottom lip hiding submissively behind your teeth. Jungkook painted your face inside his mind rapidly, not wanting to forget how pleased you looked by his actions-“So? Are you really here just for Hoseok?”-he dared to move your underwear aside, gracing the skin beyond and marvelling with the amount of moisture lapping from it.

“No”-you moaned under your breath-“I-I...”-you couldn’t find the right words to express your desire, how much you wanted him to fuck you roughly on your best friend’s couch. So you grabbed his face and crashed your lips with his, tongue pouring impatiently out of your mouth and into his. Jungkook groaned wildly, sneaking his fingers away from your cunt and upwards to your fitting top. He was quick to dismiss that item too, which soon accompanied your long-forgotten heels.

Your rosy bud aroused due to the sudden touch of the room’s cold but Jungkook’s hands were already there to warm them up, squeezing both of your breasts as you moved down on him. He broke your make-out session by attacking your neck, licking his way downwards to the valley on your chest. He kissed your right mound and latched his swollen lips with your wanting nipple. You whimpered, clasping his chestnut locks desperately and pushing him even further into your exposed skin. He groaned and began playing with your neglected breast, freehand then moving to your ass and slapping it slightly.

“Fuck!”-you swore and he couldn’t be more pleased with it. With a loud pop, he lost himself with your sinful expression, giving you the right amount of time to free yourself from his grip and kneel on the floor, face in front of his clothed cock. Skillfully you unbuttoned his pants and discarded his underwear, leaving his length completely exposed. Liquidy precum glossed his large shaft and you had to admit that you were surprisingly intimidated by the sight of it-“What? Is my cock too big for you?”-he chuckled and you looked up, challenging eyes battling with determination itself.

You gently grasped the base of his cock with your left hand and lined his swollen crimson tip with your parted lips. He contained a breath as your tongue peaked out of its cavern and tasted the fluid covering his length, toying with it for a while before taking in the first part of it-“God!”-he screamed dumbly pulling your hair backwards to have a good look of your bobbing head and teary eyes. You thrust his cock even further into your mouth, gagging just when he reached the back of your throat. Slurping sounds and moans full of lust echoed through the shallow room while your clothed pussy creamed the expensive underwear that you had bought the other day. But you could not care less as you sucked harshly on Jungkook´s titanic shaft, provoking breathy whimpers and harsh tucks on your spontaneous ponytail. 

Jungkook was lost in utter pleasure, your hands-which now squeezed his balls with confidence-contributing to his blissful delight. He was cumming. He knew it and you surely knew it too. But he was not going to be the first one to fall. Jungkook took advantage of your vulnerability and yanked your head away from his virility by your loose ponytail, tending your back on top of the couch. Hurriedly he climbed on top of you and, although he would have killed to taste your juices right then and there, he knew both of you had minimal time to enjoy yourselves. He removed your last piece of clothing and centred his length on your pussy.

You moaned when his tip graced your sensitive entrance, tickling your clit when he began moving it upwards and then-tentatively slow-downwards-“Get on with it, Jeon!”-you begged and he chuckled darkly. He managed to sneak a hand down your stomach and placed his middle finger on top of your juicy slit. He slid it until it reached your sensitive nerve bound and you nearly screamed when he pressed it tenderly-“Hm? What do you want, baby?”-he growled, pushing his shaft a little bit further into you-“Ah!”-you moaned and clutched his broad shoulders-“Use your words...”-he mocked.

“Fuck me, please!”-

Without further do, he stumped his full size inside your needy cunt and groaned when your walls tightened around him. He was huge, stretching every inch of your vagina with every single thrust; going deep, deep, deep...-“Ah!”-you whimpered when his nimble fingers buried themselves in your creamy inner lips, caressing your clit as if it was the silkiest fabric he had ever touched-“Why don’t you moan a little louder?”-he asked, accentuating his last word by burying himself deep into your throbbing cunt and staying motionless for a whole minute.

“Please! Move, Jeon!”-you screamed while rolling your hips around his toned pelvic. You threw your head back, earning the right amount of contact in order to rub your sensitive bud over his hot sweaty skin. But he was cruel, planting his calloused palms on your hips maintaining you utterly still-“What?”-he smirked like the devil itself. Minutes ago he could barely make eye-contact with you, what had happened? You weren’t complaining though when he roughly slapped your right ass cheek, leaving the warmth emanating from your pussy before slamming himself back in again-“Aren’t you worried your best friend might wake up?”

Hoseok, fuck.

Jungkook chuckled as you snapped your head sideways, searching for any sudden movements from Hobi’s dormant self-“Because...”-he spoke again-“I wouldn’t mind him seeing you like this, begging just for me”-Fucking Jeon Jungkook on your best friend’s couch, inside his room while he’s slept literally a few steps away from you; wasn’t and had never been on your plans. However, when someone as him was now hungrily staring at your body and nearly touching your cervix with his titanic cock, you couldn’t-not even thought about-turning down his offer.

Therefore, you pushed his chest backwards on the couch and placed yourself hurriedly on top of him, swirling your hips tentatively to make your point clear-“I wouldn’t mind that either, Jeon”-He groaned and you took the lead, riding him mercilessly as you moaned while throwing your head upwards. It was a sinful melody; his growls, your uncontrollable whines, and the slurping sound bumping with the steady music. You were about to reach your climax. He wasn’t too far either.

Jungkook’s hips met your movements halfway, creating a new sensation that you couldn’t actually describe. It was amazing. So much so, that when he growled and pushed his cock even further into you, creaming every inch of your vagina, you came undone. A large moan erupted from the back of your throat, freeing every bit of pleasure swimming inside you. It was the most wonderful orgasm you had ever experienced and Jungkook must have known it too, for his smirk was extremely huge and hands were already circling your exhausted frame-“That was...”

“Fuck”-he muttered, not believing any of what had happened. He had sex with Hoseok’s best friend, the most astonishing woman he could have laid his eyes on-“Yes”-you agreed, moving away from him so as to look for something warm to cover both of you. Soon enough, you found a large quilt that would provide a nice warmth.

“You know”-he spoke when you crawled beside him, tangling your arms around his chest while his hands cupped the sides of your hips-“I couldn’t hear you, the music was so fucking loud...”-he mumbled on your skin, fingertips taunting your bare tight-“That’s why I’m getting paid for, Jeon”

“Then maybe next time I will have to make you scream harder”

#bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts army #bts x y/n #army #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x y/n #bts smut #bts au #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic

[a-titty-ninja]

tomorrow, the pornocalypse.

i wont be online for 24 hours cuz ill be part of that 24 hour log off protest as a fuck u to the staff responsible. so at midnight (4 hrs from now) im logging off and my queue will be empty and ill be playing smash bros and u can catch me on discord and ill be tweeting. i’ll see u guys on tuesday and ill be making some changes to my blog.

→ currently i post around 40 times per 24hrs on queue and schedule. im going to attempt to half~ that. i want some more free time and since im doing twitter too i need to take some of my tumblr time out and give it to twitter.

→ i upload images @ 540px on tumblr. from now on i will post some of the best anime uploads to my twitter in it’s full resolution and ill put a link to it on my tumblr uploads which will still be 540px (for now). that doesnt include official arts, u can ask me about those if u want i can give you the link to the high res versions.

→ i wont upload art to twitter because all the artists i follow are on twitter already so ill be retweeting from them. ill only upload anime and maybe some gaming stuff too.

→ twitter has a much bigger gif size limit so ill have some gifs on twitter which i wont be able to post to tumblr.

→ tumblrs new guidelines doesn’t really affect my blog that much so it will pretty much stay the same in terms of content.

→ the discord server needs more mods and some bots. any tumblr mutuals who want to help with modding and stuff message me on discord.

Twitter: @a_titty_ninja

Discord: https://discord.gg/BugUTTv

#me #end times

[nananaptime]

Not a date

My work for Writer of The Month on NCT Amino

I realised halfway through writing this that Korea won against Germany, not Russia but oh well xD

Masterlist Rules

Genre: Fluff?

Word count: 1 937

Summary: Kiss cam can end in two ways; total bliss or total disaster...

“Guys, come on. It’s not a date and you know it.” My statement went over my friends’ heads as they smirked at us and giggled. We were all on a school trip to Russia in order to relax a bit before exams begun and conveniently enough, the trip was scheduled at the same time as the football match between Russia and Korea which no one was going to miss. However obvious it was as the whole class was going to attend, our friends still insisted that it was a date because Taeyong and I had decided prior to the game that we would sit next to each other. No matter how many times we tried explaining that it was solemnly for chatting purposes that we wanted to be vacated next to each other since neither of our friends knew anything about football. This way we would be able to discuss tactics and such with each other without bothering anyone else.

Beside me, Taeyong had given up trying to persuade out mutual friends of the obvious and had since five minutes ago left that task to me, the more stubborn one of the two of us. However, I didn’t seem to be able to fulfil that near impossible undertaking as it was like talking to brick walls.  They had for many years been convinced of our attraction and tried everything they could to get us together ever since, the fact that they were right about my feelings should’ve been unimportant if they hadn’t been so blatantly obvious. It wasn’t just the girls either, the boys also pestered Taeyong about making a move and actually getting somewhere to which he desperately tried persuade them of his platonic feelings for me.

I sighed as I got nowhere with my friend’s opinions and turned to Taeyong, nodding my head in a random direction as to signal the want to explore before the big game tonight. He followed me with a relieved smile as we left our delusional group behind us.

“They’ll never stop, will they?” An unbelievable mutter left Taeyong’s lips as we entered a pedestrian street decorated with hundreds of flags and merchandise in almost every window, it came as no surprise when all of the merch was Russian rather than South Korean, but the disappointment was no less great. I looked at Taeyong who was still smiling, however this time at our friends’ allegations. My heart hurt a bit at the signs of my feelings being one-sided as he always seemed to be having his eyes on other people rather than me but I suppressed it, pushing the feelings into a box in my heart which I locked and planned on never opening again. All this so I wouldn’t lose my best friend.

“Probably not, but let them have their fun. Once we actually find our matches they’ll quiet down and realise that we were right all along.” Just saying those words caused the box in my heart to shake but the large smile he gave me helped me overlook it. That’s all I need in life, his smile, his happiness, even if it wasn’t with me.

Suddenly, Tae lit up and put his hands on my shoulders, turning me around to face a shop which had been behind me, filled with all sorts of football merch, even of the Korean kind. We both bolted for the store and, after running into a few people here and there, stood there in awe. The store was divided into two parts, the right part of the store had the Russian colours on every bit, even the walls and people were crowding around the objects, desperately trying to get their hands on something before it disappeared. The left side of the store was decorated in the colours of the South Korean flag, with merch like hats, scarfs and big foam fingers and even more on full display. Unlike the Russian side where you could barely see what the store offered because of the number of people, it was a free walk to the Korean merchandise as there were barely any people there. It was kind of sad to be honest, seeing little to no support for Korea in the world cup but then again, we were in Russia so of course, most people were going to root for their own country. Letting the feeling of support rush through me, I instantly made my way to the foam fingers which I’ve been dying to get just because they’re so extra. Along with that, I also got a scarf and a shirt, determined to show who I wanted to win. Taeyong showed just as much enthusiasm, as he too got a lot of merchandise in his hands, some of which was a big team shirt, a snapback and a foam finger. We may have gotten salty looks from the cashier but we were way too excited for this match to pay her any attention and soon we were out of the store,  fabulously showing off our game spirit.

An hour later we met our group of friends outside the arena where they had kept places for us in the queue. They laughed at us slightly as we were some of the few who so obviously wanted the away team to win, Veronica even went as far as to say that we matched and that it was a sign that we should get together to which we rolled our eyes and started talking about the game instead.

“I hope the referee isn’t biased and actually judges the game based on the performance of the teams. It would suck if we lost just because they were playing favourites.” Taeyong hummed in response to my thoughts but I didn’t get more than that which caused me to look him in the eyes, curious as to what was distracting him. Rather shockingly, I found him staring at my face with an intense gaze, causing me to grow a bit red at the unusual attention. His name left my lips in a quiet whisper as to get his attention and ask what he was looking at all in the same sentence.

“Oh, sorry, you’ve got something on your cheek.” His voice faded away into nothing as he reached his hand up and brushed away what seemed to be foam from the finger which probably had ended up there as I fixed my hair in the wind a couple of minutes prior. His touch sent tingles running through my body and I found myself not being able to look away from his intense eyes, that is until Johnny coughed into his hand awkwardly.

“Uhm, do you want us to leave you alone or?” His question was accompanied by a smirk and with a slight glare in his direction, I let them know that the line was moving and they were currently stopping the flow. He looked behind him and ran ahead slightly in order to make up for lost time, causing the rest of us to laugh at his antics.

Twenty minutes later we were all situated in our seats, which were pretty good, I must say. We had a full view of the grounds and were pretty close to the exit which means we would have no trouble sneaking away to the bathroom if needed. We had all taken the time to buy some snacks for the game which is why I was now struggling to carry a big glass of sprite and a medium popcorn while still wearing my foam finger on my left hand. Taeyong noticed my difficulties and grabbed the soda and popcorn, letting me get comfortable in my seat before managing to put everything in their assigned spot. After that any attempt to speak to Taeyong was overthrown by the loud cheer of fans as the teams started entering the arena, especially when the Russian team entered, it seemed as if the arena was going to explode thanks to the volume of everyone in it. Our plan to discuss the game went down the stream as it was way too loud to do so, however, his presence alone was enough to make me feel giddy so I settled for that, shivering from time to time while his elbow brushed mine and the warmth of his skin mixed with my own. All of that was pushed towards the back of my mind as the game finally started.

45 minutes later the arena started emptying as it was not halftime and we had the time to go use the restroom or buy more snacks if we so desired. I drank the last of my sprite as I noticed Taeyong standing up beside me.

“Hey, you want some water or something?” He asked and gestured towards my now empty cup. I nodded, grateful that I wouldn’t have to fight my way through the big crowd of people. As he left I noticed how the jumbotron lit up with what seemed like a filter over a camera. It didn’t take me long to notice that they had started a kiss cam and I just felt the atmosphere grow awkward and excited at the same time. I glanced to both sides of me and noticed to my relief that both were empty so there was no chance of me being the victim. That thought didn’t stay in my head for long as Taeyong, who had been faster than expected, came back with two big cups of water. He sat down beside me, giving me a big adorable smile and handed me the liquid, having no idea about what was going on up on the big screen. I thanked him and started sipping on my water when I heard the crowd starting to cheer. Curious, I looked up at the jumbotron and spit out my drink in surprise. There, up on the big screen in front of everyone in the arena, where our faces surrounded by a big, pink, glittery heart. My cheeks instantly heated up and I couldn’t for the life of me bring myself to look Taeyong in the eyes, thinking he must be just as embarrassed as I was. Therefore, it came as a big surprise when I felt hands cover my cheeks and bring myself closer to Taeyong’s face. With a quick reassuring smile, he pressed his lips to mine in a loving, quick peck. That was all it took for me completely crumble in emotions and I curled up into a ball in my seat, covering my red face and just trying not to freak out. The whole arena awed at us and the game continued not long after that.

It was hard for me to focus on the game after that, to say the least, as I still had the feeling of Taeyong’s lips on mine lingering. I felt multiple elbows in my side as my friends couldn’t contain their joy and just gossiped about us the whole game, which is why, when Korea won, that they screamed out of surprise as everyone rooting for Korea stood up and cheered as if their lives depended on it, including Taeyong and I. In the midst of all excitement, I threw myself over Taeyong and gave him a big bear hug. He squeezed me just as tight and lifted me off the ground, once he put me back down he, again, pressed his lips to mine, this time in a longer kiss than before, one that I almost got lost in.

Let’s just say that while Korea won the match that day, he won my heart.  

#nct #nct scenarios #kpop #kpop scenarios #scenarios #taeyong #lee taeyong #nct 127 #nct u #nct 2018 #nctzen

[mustlovetights]

Bake’n Bits

A little Cop!Jack/Baker!Bitty Check Please AU!

Also on AO3

“Wow Bits, I’m shocked and astounded to find you here, mooning over hot cop. Again.” Lardo slapped a covered takeout mug of cappuccino and a white paper sack on the counter. “You’re welcome.”

Bitty frowned at the bag. “What’s this?”

Lardo pushed him toward the door. “A date.”

Bitty skirted the corner of the counter and shook his head. “Oh no. Oh no no no.”

“Eric Richard Bittle.” Lardo’s face was rapidly turning an alarming shade of pink. She thrust a finger toward the road. “You rearranged your baking schedule, and changed the start times of your lunch special, all to make sure that every single day you are standing right here—” She slapped the counter with her palm.  “When Mr. Universe climbs his tight ass out of that black and white to take a beat walk around the block.”

“I don’t rearrange my baking schedule,” Bitty mumbled, scuffing the floor with one toe.

“Yes you do!” Lardo shouted.

Bitty’s eyes widened; he had never heard Lardo raise her voice outside of a hockey game. Best friends since college, he had been more than grateful for her support (and cheap labor) when he decided to open Bake’n Bits (half bakery, half whatever he felt like cooking for lunch that day) after graduation. It had been a risk—his savings was meager and Providence didn’t have the familiarity of either home (Georgia) or Samwell University, their alma mater. But it did have the most perfect downtown location: a recently vacated coffee shop with a bonus apartment upstairs. The shop was settled between a quirky used book store with a mustachioed proprietor, and a busy hair and nail salon, and it had honestly been love at first sight. Bitty had stood on the cobbled stone sidewalk, directly under the painted swinging sign, and imagined all the beautiful pastries and pies he could arrange in the display window.  

It had taken two small loans (one from his parents and one from his Moomaw), and a huge leap of faith, but in just six months, Bake’n Bits was already in the black. It helped that Lardo had followed Bitty to Providence, willing to work for less than she was worth—let’s be honest—in exchange for a couch to sleep on and plenty of time to curate her portfolio. That decision, too, had been ultimately auspicious, because the art of Larissa ‘Lardo’ Duan would soon be featured in its very first show.

They were living the dream.

Except for the part where Bitty had no social life, he had to soak his feet every night like an 80 year old man, and the last time he had sex (with another person), he was wearing a college logo tank top unironically.

He grabbed the coffee cup and the sack and turned to face the street. He inhaled through his nose and then straightened his shoulders and marched to the door.

“Calm down, you’re not headed off to war,” Lardo snickered, as he threw himself into the sunlight.

Bitty held up a middle finger over his shoulder, blinking against the brightness of the late summer afternoon. As if on queue, Hot Cop was just passing the salon, and would be on him (ha, in his dreams) in five, four, three, two—

“Hi.” Bitty thrust his armful of baked goods and caffeine toward the tall—very tall, holy Jesus—stranger.  

The officer blinked, his blue eyes clear and ultra bright in his handsome face. Zimmermann, his nametag read. When he remained frozen there, staring down at him, Bitty blanched and tried again. Mostly because Lardo was probably recording the entire exchange on her phone for blackmail purposes. “I, um,” he jerked his head toward the bakery door. “I see you, every day, and I thought…” He shrugged, trailing off on a defeated sigh. Who am I fooling? “Fresh baked. On the house.” He shoved the bag and the cup in Officer Zimmermann’s wide, toned—uniformed—chest and fled.

...

He had been in the walk-in cooler for five solid minutes when Lardo opened the door and leaned against the jamb.

“So. You coming out any time soon?”

“No.” Bitty scowled at the clipboard in his hand. “I’m taking inventory.”

“I see that.” Lardo picked at a splotch of paint on her index finger. “So is it important? This inventory?”

“Yes.” Bitty had just aligned every box on the shelf in front of him and he ran his finger across their symmetrical faces with a happy sigh.

“More important than a smoking hot police officer who might, at this very moment, be sitting at our counter, about to bust out of his very tight poly blend snap front, asking about bear claws?”

“What!?” Bitty almost dropped the clipboard.

Lardo shrugged. “Because I can tell him to leave. We don’t need the cops to start freeloading, hanging around, drinking our coffee, expecting food for—mmph.”

Bitty squished her cheeks between his hands. “I will run all of your paintbrushes through the garbage disposal Larissa, if you are even one half ounce shitting me.”

Lardo squirmed out of his grasp. “You touch my brushes, Richard, you die.” She sniffed. “He’s there. Needs a refill.” She very pointedly walked to the door that led to their apartment. “I’m going on a very long break.”

Bitty threw the clipboard on a shelf in the cooler and slammed the door. “Breathe,” he whispered, slapping his cheeks a few times for good measure. “You can do this, Bittle. He’s just a man.” He faltered halfway across the floor. “A blazing hot, beautiful man. With man parts. And shoulders. And ass. Mother of God.” He covered his eyes for a beat before checking his hair in the polished steel bowl of his stand mixer and striding out to meet his customer.

Officer Zimmerman was no longer sitting at the counter, his pretty, pretty figure filling the far left corner between a café table and a booth. He was reading a framed newspaper story about the Samwell Men’s Hockey team, and their bid for a national championship, Bitty’s blurry face in the accompanying photo clearly recognizable.

Bitty cleared his throat. “Seems like a long time ago.” He smiled at the officer’s startled glance.

“You played?”

Bitty hid his smile at the surprised tone; story of his life. “Yeah. Four years.” He nodded at the photo. “We only made it to the finals once, but man what a memory.”

“I’ll bet.” Officer Zimmermann shifted his weight and clasped his hands in front of him, endearingly awkward. Bitty might as well have been a puddle at his feet.

“So, bear claws, huh?” Bitty grabbed the nearest coffee pot and filled a fresh mug, sliding it into place beside the cardboard travel cup at the counter. He winked and slipped on a pair of clear gloves. “I’m fresh out of those today, but I think I have something you might like.” He reached into the baked goods case and chose an apple fritter, it’s buttery, flaky crust the picture of perfection. He plated it on a white saucer and presented it with a flourish. “Hope you like apple.”

Officer Zimmermann slid onto a stool with the tiniest hint of a smile. “I do.”

Bitty tried not to clutch his chest when he took the first bite, the tip of his tongue flicking out to catch a stray crumb. (Bitty would so do that for him, if he just asked.) He grinned at the enthusiastic moan, glad the counter was between them so he could surreptitiously rearrange himself in his shorts. He was having a dry spell, okay? Handsome men moaning, with tongue, were Just. Not. Fair. “Good?”

Officer Zimmermann held up one finger while he took another bite, his second groan even more suggestive than the first. “This is amazing.”

When he thoroughly licked his fingers, Bitty nearly came on the spot. He fanned himself and spoke before he thought. “My goodness, Officer Zimmermann. You do know how to eat a fritter.”

There was a beat of silence, and then the officer snorted, a bright pink flush traveling across his cheeks and down the open vee of his shirt. “Well, it’s good. Damn near—” Those blue eyes were twinkling mischievously when they met Bitty’s. “Orgasmic.”

Bitty was going to marry this man. He thrust one hand over the counter. “Eric Bittle. Orgasmic baker.” He bit his lip. “And part-time short order cook.”

Officer Zimmermann took his hand and held it, his palm warm and slightly damp. “Jack Zimmermann.” His slow onceover down Bitty’s aproned form was borderline illegal. “Providence police officer and…” He grinned and Bitty nearly passed out. “Passionate eater.”

“I’ll say,” Bitty muttered. The tips of his fucking ears were burning. He tugged his hand free, wiping it on his apron as he turned. “You eat things that aren’t dessert, Officer Zimmermann?” He busied himself pouring his own cup of coffee. The shop was empty. He could take a break.

“Jack.” He was all but pouting when Bitty turned around, and he had to slap a palm on the countertop to circumnavigate a swoon.

“Jack.” Bitty rolled the word around his tongue; it felt good. Right. “Jack, I’m going to cook dinner for you tonight.” He leaned over the counter on his elbows, idly stirring a three packets of sugar into his coffee cup. “What’s your pleasure?”

Jack’s warm gaze never left his face. “Surprise me.”

Naked sushi might be too much for a first date, Bitty thought a little desperately. “I hope you like Japanese,” he said with a smile.

…

#zimbits #zimbits fic #jack/bitty #omgcp fic #omgcp #fanfic #ficlet #my fic #zimbits AU #jack & bitty

[tyson-berry-blog]

Zach Werenski #2 - Working Out

Anon asked: Hey! Could you write another zach werenski one? Where you two workout out together(and you pretty much kick his ass;) than have a cute pizza date or lazy day? You can change if you want!! Thanks:)) your writing is amazing!

Yes anon here you go! I love the idea of the reader kicking the professional athlete’s ass. I’m not sure why but that is always fun to write. I hope you enjoy this story!

Even though Zach had an off day he didn’t treat it as one. Sure he would sleep in a little later and would splurge slightly by eating Honey Nut Cheerios instead of Multigrain Cheerios but he still had a relative routine. The only thing that really changed was what he did in the afternoon. On game days it was taking a nap and on off days it was binge watch television he missed because of games or trying a new recipe in an attempt to learn how to cook.

If you spent the night before an off day you would try your best to join him at the gym if you didn’t have your own work to catch up on. Fortunately for you, you were ahead on work and when his alarm went off and he went to eat breakfast you joined him. You personally liked the days when you worked out together because it meant you got to use the Blue Jackets’ training facility. On days when a game or practice wasn’t scheduled the players were allowed to use the facility on their own. That technically meant they could bring anyone that they included on their friends and family list. With it being a professional athletics facility they always had the newest equipment and you were always excited to try it out.

You finished your breakfast before Zach and left to go change while he took what you deemed his “sweet, sweet time.” You were tying up your sneaker laces when he walked in and you went to wait by the front door. When he was finally ready to go you felt like you were going to jump out of your skin with all the excess energy you had. He rolled his eyes fondly and you two took the elevator down to the parking garage where he was parked. Soon enough you were driving down to Nationwide Arena. He pulled his ID out to show the guard who waved him in before he could get it fully out of his wallet. Of course they would know who he was. He parked in the player spots near the underground entrance and you forced yourself to not run to the door.

There were no other cars in the lot so you hoped that meant you two would get the facility to yourselves. It wasn’t that you minded when his teammates were there, in fact they are a great motivator but it was nice to have time with just your boyfriend. The gym is empty when you two walk in and you wasted no time in hooking your phone up to the speakers. The playlist was filled with the best mix of pump it up songs that you could find and you spent more time on it than you were willing to admit.

The strength and conditioning coach would leave behind a variety of workouts for each player in case they wanted to get in an extra workout like today for instance. Each of them were a mix of cardio and strength tailored to each player with any and all injuries taken into consideration. They were allowed to pick from any of theirs or the generic one written on the large whiteboard. The one on the whiteboard seemed to focus more on bodyweight and free-weight exercises as opposed to the specific ones that took advantage of the weight machines. You jutted your head in the direction of the whiteboard and Zach nodded in a silent agreement. The two of you then did some simple stretched to get your muscles loose before getting to work.

Zach went to gather the weights he would need for each exercise and called over his shoulder, “hey don’t be embarrassed if you can’t keep up with my pace. I don’t want you accidentally hurting something.”

His tone was genuine and so were his intentions but the words still rubbed you the wrong way.

“I think I can handle myself just fine Werenski.”

He looked at you, “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, you know my job requires me to be in the best shape physically and I don’t want you to get hurt trying to keep up.”

You put your hands on your hips, “I know very well what your job requires but I also work out six days a week. You’d be surprised about what I can do.”

He recognized the look on your face, “you’re about to challenge me aren’t you?”

“You’re damn right I am. Whoever finishes first and I mean no skipping sets or cheating on quality, gets to decide what we do after this.”

Zach reached his hand out to shake yours and solidify the agreement. The two of you got in place behind the dumbbells and waited for the second hand on the clock to come back around to the twelve before you started. The beginning sets started off relatively even. It was only when more weights were added did he start to pull ahead of you. When the cardio was added in though you regained the lead. While Zach was fast he was much stockier than you so his movements weren’t nearly as quick as yours. The final set was twenty burpees and he was still halfway through the single leg squats when you started. By the time you reached twelve he had just begun but you didn’t let that lure you into a false sense of security. He was pushing through the burpees at a speed that would make his trainer cry tears of joy but in the end it didn’t help him. He finished a good minute behind you and flopped onto his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You kicked his foot to get his attention and handed a bottle of water to him when he looked your way. His face was flushed with exertion and you wanted to push his hair back away from his forehead but instead threw a towel at him so he could wipe the sweat off. You changed the playlist to your cool down one and stretched out your muscles. You’d no doubt be sore in the morning.

Zach had barely moved by the time you finished and you forced yourself to go check on him.

Looking down at him you said, “If you don’t stretch you’re going to hate yourself in the morning.”

He grunted, “I am stretching. This is something they do in yoga.”

“If you can tell me what that stretch is called I will let you continue to lay here. If not, you get up.”

“Fine,” he sighed and rolled onto his stomach before pushing himself up, “I’m up.”

He worked through the motions similar to the ones you did while you wiped down and put away the equipment. He helped you put away the last of the dumbbells just as a commotion outside warned you of the presence of some other players. Alexander Wennberg and William Karlsson were too busy shoving each other to pay you any mind and it was only when William had Alexander in a headlock did they notice there were others in the room.

William, still with Alexander trapped spoke up, “you leaving Zach?”

“Uh yeah. She and I have plans.”

“What kind of plans,” Alexander wiggled his eyebrows.

“Food plans if you must know. Zach is buying,” you retorted.

“Oh am I now?”

You nodded, “yeah. I won so I get to decide what we do and my first decision is that you will buy me pizza.”

You took Zach’s keys from his hand and made your way back out to the car letting him have a few minutes to talk to his teammates.

He caught up a few minutes later, “why is it that you seem to always be behind me lately,” you teased.

He smiled good naturedly and took his keys back, “keep that up and I’m making you get Hawaiian pizza.”

You stuck your tongue out at him but kept silent. When you got back to his apartment you nearly shoved him over rushing to call first shower.

“I was going to let you have it anyway,” he called to you from the other room.

“I don’t believe you,” you called back.

When you exited the bathroom he was sitting on the edge of his bed playing a game on his phone.

He looked up, “pizza should be here in ten minutes. I already paid so you just have to answer the door.”

He kissed your cheek on the way to the bathroom and pulled you into a hug when you protested about him being too sweaty.

“Zach stop I just showered,” there was no malice in your voice.

“Oh what a shame you’d have to shower again. Maybe you could join me to save water.”

There was a knock at the door before you could answer and you shoved your boyfriend away from you and towards the bathroom. Your hair was damp and hadn’t been brushed so you quickly put it up into a bun to keep it out of your face. You thanked the pizza delivery man and tipped him because you weren’t sure if Zach had included it. You took the pizza into the living room and flipped through your Netflix queue until you settled on a random mystery show. You were too impatient to wait for your boyfriend so you dug into the food.

Zach snuck up behind you, “couldn’t even wait for me.”

You clutched your chest, “You scared me! How can someone as big as you be as quiet as that.”

He hopped over the back of the couch, “it’s a gift.”

He stole the slice from your hands and kept it out of your reach as you scrambled to get it back. You gave up eventually and reached to take another slice from the box which he then proceeded to take again.

“Zach please let me eat the damn pizza. I earned it fair and square.”

He didn’t answer but didn’t attempt to take another slice.

He leaned back into the couch and threw an arm around your shoulder, “this was a good idea.”

“What?”

“The food. The show. Just hanging out.”

“I make all the best decisions. You should let me make the decisions more often.”

He laughed, “yeah well next time I’m going to win and you’ll have to do whatever I want.”

You raised your eyebrows, “okay. We’ll see about that.”

#nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #columbus blue jackets imagine #zach werenski imagine #zach werenski #columbus blue jackets

[tinkerbelljayne]

I absolutely loved this race so I’m gonna get the big fat negative out the way with – the toilet situation at the start line was absolutley ridiculous.

*Leans back, sips tea, crosses legs and prepares to have one hell of a rant*

There are four waves, each wave a different colour and I was purple, the last wave (ie. the slowest group). Us purples had quite the walk to the start line. There was not only a 10 minute walk to our, let’s call it, our ‘pen’, but a further 10 minute walk from the pen to the start line (although I didn’t know this at the time). This was to give the other three waves a chance to set off before us slow coaches reached the start line for our scheduled start time of 9.30am.

As all the runners from all the waves queued for the toilets in the baggage drop-off area, a lady on a speaker began telling us not to queue for these toilets but to head to our designated pens, where there are “80-100 more toilets available”.

80 more toilets? What am I wasting my time here for? So, desperately needing a piss – which seemed to be the theme of the weekend so far as all I’d done since I arrived in Ireland is need a a bloody wee due to consuming so much water – I toddled off to the purple area.

But when I got there, I was absolutely devastated to see that there were not 100 toilets, more like 10! And the crowd of hundreds of people standing around in front of me wasn’t actually a crowd of people, it was a toilet queue, one big enough to resemble the opening of a new ride at Alton Towers!

It was too late to go back to the other toilets. I had no choice but to wait.

50 minutes queuing for the loo (yes 50 minutes!) meant I was one of the last 15 people to cross the start line out of 16,000. As the clock ticked closer to 9.30am, many of my fellow runners gave up queuing and headed to the start line. But those of us absolutley determined to go to to the toilet (aka those of us with weak bladders who were about to piss our pants at any moment) kept queuing and waiting for a portaloo to become available. As more and more people nervously darted for the start line grumbling ‘sod this’, the quieter and quieter my now not-so-atmospheric purple pen became. But there was no way I was starting my marathon with a bladder full of pee.

By the time I exited a stinky loo, having pissed like a race horse, there was hardly anyone around, not even the girl I’d befriended in the queue who I thought would wait for me because we bonded over snacks.

As I began my run at a rather late 9:44am, there were no crowds cheering me on, no big cardboard signs, no DJ throwing out tunes; it was like a scene from a zombie move. Almost everyone had vanished, there were abandoned jackets everywhere and half empty water bottles rolling in the wind like tumbleweeds. Unlike the cheering crowds at the Paris marathon six months earlier, there were just a few passers-by giving me a little slow clap as I began mile one of 26.2.

Whilst having the empty space to run at a good pace was a big bonus (at Paris my first mile was incredibly slow due to actual human traffic) it felt eerily quiet. And I didn’t like the fact that if I didn’t catch up with my fellow runners that I could potentially be the one of the last to cross the finish line. I wanted to be alongside them, I wanted the race atmosphere, I needed it. This need must have lead me to subconsciously pick up my pace and after no more than a few minutes, I was reaching my fellow purple runners who had all started before me.

(I actually had no idea that despite being one of the last 15 runners to start, throughout my 26.2 miles I would overtake nearly 4000 runners as I finished in 12,107th place out of nearly 16000 participants *pats herself on the back*)

In no time at all I was comfortably snuggled into the Dublin Marathon atmosphere and surrounded by other runners. Phew!

Despite running at a quicker pace than usual at the start, I didn’t feel too tired or like I had peaked too soon, I felt just right. The weather was lovely – bright and sunny and a cool 14 degrees. With the sun shining and with the lovely Irish runners all being in such high spirits (so much chanting and constant encouragement for each other) it was impossible not to absolutely love this run. I had a full on runners high at mile seven as I ran under the blue sky, passing a beautiful lake, gorgeous sky high trees, one of my favourite Chemical Brothers tracks beating in my ears; my feet simply pounding the pavements to the rhythm. I felt blissfully happy and unusually energised.

During my training the second time around I’d found it much harder to reach the autopilot stage. For me it’s usually around mile four or five and only continues upto to mile eight or nine. When it switches off, you have to really push yourself. But this time I managed to run on auto-pilot from around mile three until mile 10, where three of my friends where waiting, with banners!

I was chuffed to see them, although not so chuffed when I realised they were stood waiting at the top of a hill and I knew there was no way I could walk it, not when I had supporters waiting in the cold. To be honest I was was so excited to see them that I sprinted to the top (the only hill I managed to sprint). Pretty much as soon as I got to them I was offloading things I didn’t need anymore; it was goodbye jacket, goodbye scarf and I also decided to abandon some peanut m&m’s that my tastebuds were just not hankering for.

My friends asked how I was feeling and I remember saying “okay actually, I don’t feel too tired and I haven’t taken an energy gel yet”. I took a quick pic of them and then was off on my way again, promising to meet them at the finish line. But no sooner had that sentence come out my mouth and I was faced with some serious hills. Runners who do trail runs or who are used to hilly courses might not have found them that bad, but I rarely run hills. So this was hard for me. There is one in my local park and I hate it – it kills me every time. Fortunately these hills didn’t actually kill me, what got me through them was knowing that what goes up, must come down and I managed to do every single hill at a steady pace.

Shortly after mile 13 when I hit the half way point, I had that knot in my stomach when I realised I’d have to do what I just did all over again. And yet still I didn’t feel the need for an energy gel. I did notice that the food I was struggling to digest a few hours ago had well and truly been digested and I felt a little hungry, so I avoided the gels packed in my bumbag and took out some skittles instead. These honestly really help me. It’s a sweet sugary little fix that gives me a lovely boost of energy even if it is only short.

Still feeling fairly okay (obviously very tired but nowhere near stopping point) and having consumed my skittles, I decided to look at my Fitbit for the first time, which was timing me. As I peered down at my wrist I was quite surprised. According to my watch I was actually doing okay for time, much better than I’d anticipated. Although my previous record was 04:47:17, I was aiming this time round for 05:30:00 (due to my lack of training and being ill). I realised that if the race continued to go as well as it had done so far, then I could actually be on for a PB, to do that I needed to cross the finish line in 04:47:16 or under. And just over half way I was on a time of 02:16:22.

But I also knew that just like during my 19 mile practice run a few weeks ago, I could crash and burn at any point, that I might have to stop all together, that if the pain that came during my 19 miler returned to my legs or my hips, that it could even be game over.

But I could try, couldn’t I?

  During Paris, the organisers gave out pieces of banana and orange. The orange was a game-changer, it’s incredible what a slice of it can do when your running. It’s so refreshing and revitalising. Unfortunately the Dublin Marathon doesn’t give out any kind of food or snacks, only water and Lucozade. But thankfully the people of Dublin do! Stood outside their houses, they hold out boxes of Haribo sweets, skittles, Jaffa cakes, bananas – AND ORANGES! You have no idea how much I wanted to cry when a little girl at mile 15 was stood, looking so adorable and angelic in a pretty dress, with a huge tub of orange slices. I ran up to her and called her my angel, grabbing two slices, lobbing them into my mouth one at a time like mouth guards, and sucked the life out of them. Across the next six miles I was able to suck on five more pieces of orange, each stranger feeding me not only pieces of orange but words of encouragement “go on girl, your doing so well, your incredible”.

I honestly cannot express how wonderful the crowds and supporters were, from cheering us all on and telling us how well we are doing, to handing out refreshments just because they wanted to help, to holding up some of the most brilliant signs I’ve ever seen (including a chap at mile 24 holding up a sign saying ‘My arms are killing me.’) I must have high fived about 20 people and I hit 4 different ‘touch here to power up’ signs – they actually work!

For some reason the whole of my run up until mile 19 felt like it had gone very quick. Obviously not quick quick, but it hadn’t dragged. But mile 19 was the point I got to when I really started to struggle. I’d needed a wee at around mile 18 and so had popped to the loo, and as I had began running again I realised how absolutely knackered my body felt. I’d already had plenty of water, plenty of Lucozade, and I couldn’t face anymore skittles. As I felt myself slowing down and my chances of a PB slipping from me, I pulled out an energy gel.

I went with Clif energy gels this time after being a little disappointed with Stealth in Paris. And despite not initially liking the citrus flavour on my training runs, I just could not face the sickly overpowering taste of the chocolate or the espresso ones, so I actually chose my least favourite and went for the citrus. At the next water stop I grabbed a bottle to help down the thick liquid, only I couldn’t open the dam thing. The tab you pull to open the wrapper was somehow pulled off by my sweaty hand and I had to use my teeth. This was difficult to say the least. The label on the back was transferring to my hand and face like a cheap tattoo transfer due to beig so sweaty and I had to keep wiping it off. But eventually I managed to pierce a small whole in the sachet and squeeze some into my mouth. The whole was so small and so painfully difficult to get gel out of though – and I was on a pretty tight schedule – I probably only consumed about half of it before I tossed it away.

But half was enough.

Somewhere in between mile 22 and 23 the gel, along with one last cup of Lucozade, had well and truly kicked in! Despite feeling super tired and in pain, I started speeding up and overtaking runners, dodging in and out of them like I was in a TV car chase. Throughout most of my race I had been running behind the 5 hour pace makers who all had giant red balloons tied to them, floating above so us runners could see them. Those b***** balloons. I felt like I’d been chasing them for most of my run, I nearly overtook them at mile 18 but needed the loo. But at mile 23 I finally ran past them. Knowing I had started the run about 10 minutes after them and that I was now overtaking them, I knew I must be soooo close to getting a PB.

But my burst of energy didn’t quite last the rest of the race. I can’t even begin to describe how painful that last mile was!

My feet were hurting, me legs were hurting, I could feel myself losing my breath. I had no idea how I was even running anymore, let alone how I was going to finish the last mile. You’d think mile 26 would be the easiest bit- it’s nearly over, It’s easy, right?

Nope. It’s horrifyingly painful and it feels like the longest mile of your life. Everytime I turned a corner and I didn’t see the finish line I wanted to cry. I was so close to stopping, but I just told myself ‘it will be over soon.’ I finally saw a sign saying ‘2k to go’. 2k – thats nothing. And yet it dragged soooooo much. The crowds got bigger and bigger, “your nearly there” they shouted, yet there wasn’t a finish line in sight. This was the worst 2k of my entire life – I had no energy left, I was in pain, I so badly wanted to just stop and walk it. But deep down I knew there was no way I was walking across that finish line. I’m so stubborn. At one point I thought I could feel one of my toe nails coming off, but I still kept on running.

As me and my surrounding runners turned one final corner, sure enough the finish line came in sight. I wanted to cry. It still looked so far away. But I just continued to tell myself “it will be over soon, it will be over soon, it will be over soon.” I quickly glanced at my Fitbit and could see I was on around 04:45. I couldn’t let it get to 04:47. I couldn’t. It was time to speed up.

It took every ounce of strength to move my body faster, and I still don’t know how I did it, but somehow I started sprinting towards that finish line. My body ached, especially my feet, my breathing was chaotic, at one point I felt like I actually couldn’t breathe. I had tears in my eyes as I realised I was literally steps away. And suddenly I was crossing it, suddenly I was on the other side of the line. It was over.

Did I really just do that? How did I do that? was all I could think. I actually felt faint and tried to lean on a railing before being ushered away by staff. Everything felt like a dream. In fact I felt like I was in shock. I limped towards man who placed a medal around my neck and congratulated me. I wanted to cry but I felt like I had no energy. I stumbled further along where I was given a T-shirt, I should have grabbed a medium, but in my haze, I just took a small from the women handing them out. I was given a plastic bag and inside I saw a bottle of water and Lucozade and quickly grabbed them both and began to down them.

Then I felt my phone vibrate. It was my Dublin Marathon app. My hands shaking, I swiped my phone open and saw the alert telling me I had completed the marathon…

…in 04:46:32.

I had a new PB.

I literally burst into tears!

I had doubted myself so much. I honestly thought I wouldn’t be able to do it in less than five hours, let alone achieve a PB. I’d only shaved off around a minute, but just weeks earlier I thought I was going to have to pull out all together, so the fact I not only ran it, finished it, and got an even better time, was incredible. I felt so unbelievably proud of myself.

It turns out a) muscle memory is a real thing and god bless my chunky legs for basically being amazing and remembering how to carry me all that way without giving up and b) I have some serious determination in me, like serious serious serious determination – something I am very proud of. My training may not have gone exactly the way it had, but I didn’t let myself down and I worked hard in that last month to really look after my body. And it worked. It really did.

And yes, I’m already planning my next one. In fact I’ve got three more in the pipe line, so watch this space!

  [do_widget id=alder_social_widget-2] [do_widget id=blog_subscription-13]

Running the 2017 Dublin Marathon I absolutely loved this race so I’m gonna get the big fat negative out the way with - the toilet situation at the start line was absolutley ridiculous.

[dyernews]

Money at 30: Viraltag Review

As you may know, a few months ago I started my own personal finance site, Money@30. While I was preparing to launch — including setting up my various social media accounts — I was determined to find better social tools than the ones I was already accustomed to and really “up my game” for this new site. That’s when I came across Viraltag, a service that allows you to easily create and schedules social media posts across various platforms. Having now used and explored Viraltag for the past few months, I’m excited to share what this service offers, what I like about it, and where I think it could be improved:

Getting Started with Viraltag

Once I signed up for Viraltag, my first job was to connect all of my social media accounts to the service. This included Twitter, Facebook Page, my LinkedIn business page, Pinterest, and Tumblr. There’s also support for linking an Instagram account, but we’ll get into that later as the workflow is very different from the others. 

If you’ve ever tried granting account access to various services before you’ll know how hit or miss it can be. Thankfully my experience with linking my social accounts to Viraltag was relatively pain-free. In each scenario, the process was very straight forward and made it easy to ensure I was connecting the page or account I wanted to. That said, the only account linking problems I’ve encountered so far involve expiring tokens, which require you to reconnect your account from time to time. Of course this is hardly Viraltag’s fault and, just like the first time out, reconnecting was a cinch. 

Now, with all of your accounts connected, there are a few different routes you could choose as far as next steps. Personally, my next move was to install the Viraltag plugin.

Viraltag Chrome Extension 

One feature that attracted me to Viraltag in the first place was the ability to create and schedule posts directly from the pages I wanted to share. On my end, this is achieved via the Viraltag extension for Chrome. Following a quick installation process, this extension now allows me to click on pretty much any image that appears on a site and turn it into a social media post. 

Here’s how it works: basically, when you come across an article you’d like to share, you can hover over an image on the page to engage the Viraltag bug. Most of the time this bug will appear in the bottom right corner of the image but, in some cases, it will either appear too low to be clicked or may not appear at all. Although this can be a tad annoying in some instances, all is not lost — you can simply right-click on the image and a “Schedule with Viraltag” option should appear. Whether you click the aforementioned bug or have to utilize the right-click workaround, a Viraltag window should pop up on top of the open page. 

If you don’t have Chrome or don’t want to install another extension Viraltag does offer an alternative, albeit not a great one. By adding a special Viraltag link to your bookmark bar, you can access the same scheduling window with a couple of extra steps. The first difference is that Viraltag will essentially take over the entire page you’re on when the bookmark link is clicked and present you with different image options it scrapes from the page. Once you select one of these, then that awesome scheduling window will appear. Overall this isn’t a terrible option but I vastly prefer the plugin myself.

Creating and Scheduling Posts

Now that I’ve covered my preferred method of reaching the Viraltag scheduling window, let’s talk about all you can do with this tool. First, atop the scheduling window is a list of all of your connected social accounts. To select an account you want to add a post to, all you have to do is click it so that it’s highlighted. Additionally, for Pinterest posts, you can choose which board you’d like to post to using the drop-down menu. Even better, you can schedule posts to multiple boards by continuing to select them.

Under your account list is where you’ll see an image and a text box. Depending on the site, this text box may be pre-populated with a description of the article or a headline. If that’s not the case or you just want to tweak the post, you can easily edit the text to your liking. Also helpful is that, if you select a Twitter account to post to, it will provide you a character count to ensure your text doesn’t get cut off. As for the image, that can be swapped out by clicking the square. This will launch a new window where you can upload images from your computer, Facebook, Instagram, Dropbox and more.

Once you have your selected image and text in place, I’d recommend paying attention to the section labeled “Source URL.” This will determine what link is shared when you post your content.

Note: While 99% of the time this box has the correct page link to the article I want to share, there have been times where I get the image URL inserted instead of the page URL. User error is also possible as, if you’re trying to share a blog post from a landing or home page, you may need to swap out the URL for a direct link to the article.

If you’re like I was until a few weeks ago, you could just hit “Add to queue” at this point and call it a day. However, as I’ve since learned, there are plenty of other great features to be found just below the Source URL box. On the left, you’ll see the word “Evergreen” with a circle next to it. Checking this circle will add the post to a list of content that can then be inserted any time there’s a break in your scheduling. This not only ensures you won’t have a lull in your social posting but also allows your best content to continually find an audience.

Another extremely helpful tool is the “clone post” option. This will allow you to tailor your posts to the various platforms they’ll appear on. As you’d expect given the name, when you click “clone post,” you’ll see a second scheduling window appear next to the first one. Additionally a magical little star will appear near the image. Clicking said star will launch a photo editor where you can reshape your chosen image and optimize it for Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and other various dimensions. Beyond that you can also add frames, text, filters, and other fun to really make your posts stand out. By the way, should you require more clones, tapping the button will continue to load scheduling panels on the same page.

When you’re done crafting your post(s), you have a couple options for how you want to share it. One such option is to set a specific time you want it to go live. The other choice is to add it to your queue and have it post according to your setting (more on that in the next section). Personally I really enjoy the queue function but, if you’re dealing with something timely, it’s nice to know the regular schedule button is there as well.

Your Viraltag Dashboard

As I mentioned, I was really drawn to the idea of scheduling posts from around the web without having to visit a central hub. While Viraltag makes that possible, it turns out that making Viraltag that hub for content is actually super helpful. 

When I first started using the service, I only created posts while on other sites. But then I realized I was really just frequenting the same handful of sites each day. So instead I’ve now added a number of RSS feeds to Viraltag dashboard, allowing me to create several social posts from one place instead of having to visit each individual site. And, of course, scheduling this way still gives you access to the same features as with the Chrome extension.

Using the Viraltag dashboard has also helped me add a bit of variety to me social posts thanks to its Explore and Circles tabs. In Explore, you can search various tags or keywords to find content that fits your audience. Similarly Circles curates posts from others users (you can submit your own content as well) that can be shared. Like with Pinterest group boards, these circles do have rules and some can get a bit crowded. Still, there is still great content to be found within Circles and they give you a chance to get your work shared.

Finally, in the Home section of Viraltag, you can see all of your posts. This includes a look at what you have scheduled, any drafts you have sitting around, what you’ve posted recently, as well as a look at any updates that failed to post for one reason or another. You’ll also be able to browse content you’ve marked as “Evergreen” that will be shared automatically if there’s an opening in your schedule. 

Speaking of empty slots, this section will also allow you to edit your posting times for queued items. These times are specific to each account, enabling you to post more frequently on some networks than others. This is a must as platforms like Twitter are more receptive to multiple posts than, say, Facebook are. Additionally, if you’re unsure of what the best posting times are, Viraltag will make suggestions to help you build out your schedule.

The Viraltag App and Posting on Instagram

Like I teased earlier, Viraltag does have a way to schedule posts on Instagram that varies greatly from the normal process. In fact, if you wish to use the service to post to Instagram, you’ll have to download the Viraltag mobile app, which was built just for the task. 

Creating posts for Instagram starts off pretty much the same way — using the extension, link, or dashboard to schedule a post. Unfortunately there a still a few things you’ll need to do before that scheduled post is actually live. First the Viraltag app will send you a push notification at the time you’ve scheduled the post for. Selecting this notification will then launch the Viraltag app and copy the caption for your post. It will also save the image you’ll be using and ask to open Instagram. 

Once your device launches the Instagram app, it should default to the correct image, which is now saved in your camera roll as well. If you want, you can also apply the famous IG filters to the image before sending. With that done, you can tap the caption box, paste the text from your scheduled post (which Viraltag should have automatically copied), and finally post. Like I said, this process is far different and much more hands-on than any other social platform but, hey, it works.

The Pros and Cons of Viraltag

Now that we’ve covered most of what Viraltag can do, I want to talk about what I like about the service (a lot) and what I don’t (a little).

First up is a major pro: Viraltag makes it easy to maintain a presence across my social accounts and share great content with my followers. While I could schedule posts individually on different platforms, I love having the ability to do it all at the same time. Additionally, unlike with other automated social platforms I’ve tried — namely IFTTT — my Viraltag posts always look great and display exactly as I’d expect them too.

Another thing I love about Viraltag is that it gives me options as far as where I get my content from. While I’ve recently come to truly appreciate the RSS feed function for finding posts from my favorite sites, it’s great to stumble across a new blog/article and share it with just a couple of clicks. As a result of this combination, I honestly feel like the quality of the content I share on my social accounts has improved in recent months.

As far as what I don’t like about Viraltag, I have only a few minor gripes, the first being the app. I understand that Instagram makes it difficult for third-party platforms to post to it and, on that note, I think Viraltag has found a clever but understandably clunky solution. However, why is it that the app needs to be dedicated exclusively to facilitating IG posts? Why not add the option to view my schedule for other accounts? The description of the app in the App Store even makes it sounds like that’s what it offers and yet I can’t seem to find that functionality.

So with all of these great features you may think Viraltag is going to cost an arm and a leg every month. However, at $29 a month ($24 a month if paid annually) for an individual subscription it is a bargain. To get a similar set of features and site coverage you would need to subscribe to both MeetEdgar and Tailwind, which will at a minimum cost you $49/month for MeetEdgar and $9.99/month for Tailwind. Of course it is worth noting that, if you’re using Viraltag for your business, these fees can likely be written off of your taxes as business expenses. Even better is if you sign up for Viraltag today you will get a $15 credit plus a 14 day free trial!

There’s no doubt in my mind that Viraltag has helped me up my social media game and allowed me to gain solid followers even as a new site. From the ability to schedule posts while surfing the web (do people still say that?) to automatically reposting my best content, the service has surely saved me a ton of time maintaining my accounts. Moreover, when I schedule content in Viraltag, I know they’ll look amazing on whatever platform I’ve selected to post them to. For those reason and more, I personally and honestly recommend that small business owners, freelancers, and influencers invest in Viraltag for their social media marketing needs.

The post Money at 30: Viraltag Review appeared first on Dyer News.

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5 Ways Not to Hate Your Husband After Kids

Since I got married, my “love language” has become the love language of picking your shit up off the floor—because nothing kills romance or libido faster than cleaning up after someone like a 1950’s housewife. And yet this is the norm for many heterosexual new parents: that the woman, whether she works or not, will do most of the labor (much of it unseen) around child-rearing and housekeeping. We may have had egalitarian relationships pre-kids; we may anticipate that we’ll enjoy a pristinely fair division of labor post-kids, but when the actual baby arrives—well, it can be like a bomb going off in your marriage.

For one, the sheer volume of work is not really comprehensible in advance. The Sisyphusian labor of dishes, laundry, housekeeping, admin, and childcare is just…brutal and inexorable, like being caught in a years-long, slow-moving mudslide. Most people have a hard time feebly mumbling, “I don’t think you understand how hard I work around here” whilst scooping mud out of their face.

But the second major problem is more insidious. It lies in our understanding of gender roles, and not in broad “only men should work and only women should stay home” strokes, which I think we’ve (mostly) moved past. It’s more that a million little pieces of information are passed to women via a social pipeline—information that is generally not passed to men. A girl’s first job is often babysitting, and in adulthood she will attend baby showers in which (whether she wants it or not) she gets an earful about the best straightjacket sleep-sack and best infant containment system; by talking to older mothers, she perhaps has already formed an opinion on cry-it-out versus co-sleeping or attachment parenting versus arming children with machetes or whatnot.

This information puts mothers, even on day one of parenthood, way ahead of fathers in terms of know-how and expertise. And unless she’s willing to instruct (and he’s willing to be instructed, and the instruction is more worthwhile than just doing it herself) it’s easy to slip into an arrangement in which moms shoulder the bulk of the childcare and housework. This is slowly changing—men attend baby showers now, and daddy blogs are a real thing—but women are, generally speaking, still running the domestic show.

Which brings me to resentment. Which brings me to Jancee Dunn’s new book How Not to Hate Your Husband After Kids, which she wrote after a crisis in her own marriage involving division of labor, anger, vicious fights, and finally, the realization that if things didn’t change, divorce was inevitable. Her meticulously researched book pulls together the social science behind domestic labor and gender roles (news to me: Men are more likely to be awakened by “strong wind” than a crying baby, whereas women will levitate awake and sprint into a child’s room—running through the air à la Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon—at the merest infant sniff) with first-person interviews and her own marital experiments in couples counseling. She even sought help from an FBI crisis negotiator.

A note: Her how-to is primarily for heterosexual couples—there is a larger body of research on heterosexual couples than there is for same-sex couples, and hetero couples have all the aforementioned gender-role programming to deal with—but the book is pretty helpful for anyone at all who’s ever resented their partner after having a baby.

I spoke with Dunn to get her top five tips for not hating your partner after kids.

1. Let him screw up. 

A friend of mine recently said, about her husband and new baby girl, “He would take a bullet for this kid, but he might forget to put a hat on her.” Remember that social pipeline of information? He doesn’t have it, and if you don’t let him learn, you’re engaging in “maternal gatekeeping,” or keeping him from participating in the nitty-gritty of childcare.

He has to bond with his kids too, and you have to let him make mistakes. That means not hovering and not signaling, overtly or subtly, that you know better. Total immersion is the only way, says Dunn. “Leave the house. Get a coffee, or go away for the weekend. His way is not the wrong way.” (I have recently learned that it doesn’t actually help my sweating husband, when he’s struggling to get the kids out the door, to raise my eyebrows and say “classic mistake—always put your own coat on last.”) If you don’t have both partners fully taking ownership, then you’ll stay stuck in the employer/sullen teenage employee dynamic.

But what, you ask, if your husband doesn’t want to do any domestic labor? What if he’s content to let you be the maker of the grocery lists and the keeper of the pediatrician appointments, summer camps, play dates and special laundry instructions? Then, Dunn, says, you are going to have to learn to …

2. Stay on your own side. 

You need to advocate for what you need, or stay on your own side. Now, this advocating can mean losing your temper and screaming that he needs to get off his ass and fold a load of laundry, or no it’s not okay to take a long nap after a long hot shower after taking a long solo run all morning, or you can have a civil conversation and divide up the chores. And keep having that civil conversation, weekly or monthly, as new responsibilities crop up and others fade away. (Goodbye diapers, hello baseball camp.)

Dunn suggests dividing housework based on who likes or loathes what chores—her own husband hates the grocery store (“the crowds, the florescent lighting, whereas I like seeing the new products and thinking about what I’m going to cook”) so food shopping has become her responsibility. He’s compulsively punctual, so he’s in charge of all things time-sensitive, like bill-paying and taking his daughter to her classes.

Not staying on your own side means stewing in silent fury as you do the dishes, bathe the kids, pack lunches and fold laundry—while your spouse reads a magazine in bed. It means presenting things as a choice: “Do you want to do baths or dishes?” and then, after that, “Do you want to fold laundry or pack lunches?”

This doesn’t necessarily mean that you get to dictate exactly how the chores get done—my husband prefers to pack lunches and do dishes in the morning, so unless I want to do these things myself…they’re waiting until tomorrow.

3. Insist on your half-day. 

Dunn tells me that “weekends should not be a forced march” of childcare and chores. “You need to negotiate weekend time, and ask each other ‘what are we doing this weekend that meets everyone’s needs?’” She calls it the “everyone sort of wins” strategy.

My husband and I long ago agreed that we would each get a half-day off, every weekend, in which we could sleep in and had no childcare or housekeeping responsibilities. Even if we’re all home, one parent is off duty. When my kids inevitably ask me if they can have a snack/watch TV/set fire to something, I say “Daddy’s in charge till lunchtime,” and they take their requests to him. (Answers: yes, yes, and depends on what it is.) I read in bed or go for a run or meet a friend for coffee, with no comment from him. He watches the Braves lose five games in a row, with only a few comments from me (“This is how you relax?”). It’s blissful.

4. Have sex during Tae Kwon Do. 

Who has energy for sex when you’re caught in a mudslide? Many new mothers feel like sex is just another demand on their time and bodies, and it’s often easier to say “not tonight, dear, I have a long Netflix queue.” Dunn cites research that claims the marital “sweet spot” for sex frequency is once a week, and that the ideal length of time for intercourse is seven-13 minutes (insert standard note here that intercourse is of course not the only way to have sex). That’s really not a lot of time—and if you, as Dunn did, ask your husband to take some of the evening routine off your plate by putting the kids to bed a tad early, it won’t cut into your precious, precious, sleep time.

For others, scheduling sex is the only way to make sure it actually happens. Dunn tells me about a friend who has a standing sex date with her husband while their twins are at Saturday morning Tae Kwon Do (a drop-off class, I presume). My own husband, at one point defeated by the relentless demands of a baby and a preschooler, said desperately, “We’re going to have to start paying for sex.” When I asked him to, uh, clarify, he said, “We need to hire a sitter to take them out of the house for a few hours or we’ll never have sex again.” Nothing like paying for a babysitter to make you use your time productively!

And having good sex means you’ll want to have more sex, so getting over that first hurdle, so to speak, will make you more eager to do it again. (Disclaimer that no one should be having sex unwillingly—these are just tips for finding time and getting in the mood.)

5. Learn to fight fair. 

“Know that your baby is affected [by your fighting],” Dunn says. “If you’re fighting over her head, making a few choice gestures, she’s getting those stress responses. We were in a pattern called ‘Demand-Withdrawal,’” in which one partner tries to get the other to do something, or to engage and communicate, and the other one just shuts down. The relationship gurus John and Julie Gottman call this stonewalling, and it’s one of the big predictors of divorce. (Um, maybe because it’s enraging.)

Dunn and her husband went to couples therapy—and even consulted with an FBI crisis negotiator—to learn to fight fair, and to fight away from their daughter. They learned techniques such as “mirroring,” when the person echoes what the other person just said, and paraphrasing the gist of their complaint. She said, “And sometimes you have to laugh because the paraphrasing is wildly off—‘You’re angry because I stepped around you while you were emptying the dishwasher’—‘No, I’m angry because you stood there jingling your keys and saying let’s go instead of offering to help.’”

For her part, Dunn had to learn to control her temper, which a therapist told her was verbally abusive, and to ask directly for help, rather than spiraling into a rage cycle when her husband couldn’t read her mind.

How To Not Hate Your Husband After Kids is extremely helpful, and even comforting, if for no other reason than you realize that many couples are confronting the same programming and conflicts you are—and have managed to fight their way clear.

“We’re only a generation or two away from the homemaker/breadwinner model,” she says. Every couple has to reinvent what’s right for them—a strict feminist model calls for a precise 50-50 split, but Dunn argues for what “feels equitable” to each couple.

And Dunn notes, while we’re talking, that her book isn’t necessarily going to help a marriage that’s really far gone. All of her research-backed advice is predicated on the belief that both parties are good people who want everyone to be happy—it’s not, obviously, for people in abusive relationships or even for women married to partners who are just fine with watching football all weekend while their wives clean, cook, and chauffeur.

“A lot of people have come up to me [since the book was published] and say ‘too late! I already hate my husband!’” she says. Her stock answer has become: “‘Therapy, both couples and individual, really helped me—and maybe it can help you.’” To me, she continues, “and maybe it will help that person get out of their marriage—to ask themselves, ‘why am I letting myself be treated like this?’” Towards the end of her book she cites a comment from sociologist Scott Coltrane: “One of the biggest shifts in recent years is that many women will simply not put up with partners who don’t contribute at home.”

We can’t necessarily do anything about the mudslide. We can’t necessarily do anything about the gender-role programming we received in childhood (and continue to receive). But we can stop and have a conversation about who takes the kids to hockey and who goes through the bills. We can have sex during Tae Kwon Do. We can make sure that everyone sort of wins. And that’s how not to hate your husband after kids.

But What If You Still Hate Your Partner?

Everything I Learned About Relationships by Sucking at Dating

Five Communication Mistakes Almost Every Couple Makes

What You Can Do Right Now to Safeguard Your Relationship Against a Bloody, Messy Death

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